"Think he's gone now, Mr Murray, sir?" said Tom May in a whisper.
"I'm afraid to hope for it," replied Murray.
"So'm I, sir," said the man; "but what a toucher! Just think of his
bungling off that old musket and scaring the lot! He may think himself
lucky that he didn't shoot some of 'em."
"Or hisself," growled Titely. "That makes me sure it was the one I was
handling, for it had been strained a bit so as the hammer was a bit
loose. But hadn't we better get on somewhere else for a bit, sir, 'fore
he comes back?"
"I don't think I would, Frank," whispered Roberts sadly. "I'm so weak
and helpless I don't know what to do, and we're just as likely to
blunder against the enemy as they are to come upon us. If I could only
have some water I wouldn't care."
"Just wait for a half-hour or so, sir, and give the beggars a chance to
get a bit further away, and then we'll have a look round and see if we
can't find water, and if we don't come upon any at once we'll see what
we can do in the way of digging some up with the cutlasses."
"Oh, I'll wait," said Roberts, with a piteous sigh, "but don't wait too
long, or I shall die of thirst."
It was a guess at the time, but all being perfectly still, and as if the
enemy had gone right away, it was determined to make a venture in search
of water.
"Shall we go together, Tom?" asked Murray.
"It's like making half the chance, sir," replied the man. "I think I'd
take one way and me the other."
"Very well; but let's go very carefully; and we ought to cut or mark the
trees if we could, so as to find our way back."
"It's like showing the way we've gone, sir," said the man; "but there,
we must run some risks."
"Whatever you do, Tom," said the midshipman, "be careful about finding
your way back."
"I'll do my best, sir," replied the man.
"Water! For goodness' sake, water!" moaned Roberts; and those words
started the pair off at once, each feeling perfectly despairing of
success, in opposite directions, and each with the same precautions,
till sick at heart and hopeless after marking his way step by step
either by blazing the sides of the trees or cutting the cane in a way
that he felt pretty sure of following back, Murray sank down faint and
exhausted, to rest for a few minutes before deciding whether he should
persevere a little more or return to his unfortunate companion in
despair.
"It seems so cowardly to give up," he said to himself; "but Tom may have
succeeded, and even if he has not, it would be better to try in a fresh
direction."
He sat motionless listening for a few minutes in indecision, feeling
that if he did not find water or food he would be in as bad a plight as
his companion, when he suddenly caught at the nearest tree, drew himself
up, and stood trembling. The next minute what had seemed to be an utter
wilderness assumed a different form from that which he had observed
before. He realised that some form of cultivation had been carried out,
and following up the track, he passed on through a narrow, trampled
patch, to find himself in an opening where, roughly hacked out of the
forest, a clearing had been made, along one side of which ran a grip of
water, cleared out for reasons connected with irrigation, and there
stretching out before him were a few dozen of banana trees, Indian corn,
and what he directly after made out to be the succulent yam plant.
Murray's despair was a thing of the past, and his spirits rose to a
pitch of excitement now, for at the end of the clearing was the
roughly-made hut of some negro, which appeared to have been only quite
lately forsaken.
He entered the hut cautiously, expecting to find traces of inhabitants,
and these were simple and plain in the shape of several cocoanut shells
that had been used for food vessels, and close at hand a large dry
calabash.
Trembling with excitement, the discoverer seized the latter vessel and
one of the nut-shells, to bear them to the side of the grip, where he
dipped with the shell and drank with avidity of the perfectly
clear-looking water, which proved to be of a deep amber colour, but
tasted sweet and refreshing.
He refilled the nut-shell and drank again with a feeling of excited hope
running through him. Then filling the calabash, he drew the cutlass he
bore, hacked through the fruit-stalk of the ripest banana plant he could
find, shouldered it, and with the calabash in his right hand paused for
a few moments to look excitedly round, fully expecting to find that he
was watched.
But the place was quite forsaken, and, trembling with eager desire now
to get back to the two sufferers he had left behind, he muttered to
himself, "Saved!" and stepped out, but only for his heart to sink again,
for in his excitement he felt that he had not taken sufficient
precaution as to his way back.
It was after some minutes and only through forcing himself to step back
and stand in the very position where he had first felt, that he was
gazing upon the clearing, that he caught his idea of location of the
place again, when he started back with the treasures he had found, and
further encouraged himself with one of the sweet succulent fruit which
with the water gave him invigoration and enabled him to recover his
traces and blazings of the trees on his way back.
And now it was that he found how much further he had strayed away than
he had thought, and twice over he seemed to have missed his marks
entirely, and turned hot and faint.
A fresh draught of the water he bore, however, restored the failing
clearness of his intellect, and he found that which he had missed,
started afresh, and at last to his intense delight he staggered with his
load to where he found Roberts lying asleep, but quite alone.
"Dick!" he cried excitedly, as he looked round in vain, while laying
down his burden.
There was no reply.
"Dick! Here, Dick," he whispered softly, lest he might raise an alarm
and bring upon them danger from their lurking foes.
There was no reply, but the poor fellow stared up at him in a
half-delirious way.
As quietly as he could manage, Murray filled the cocoanut he had
brought, raised his brother middy's head upon his arm, and held the
hard, dark-brown cup to the lad's lips.
There was no response for a few minutes, during which Murray contrived
to moisten the parched and cracking membrane as if in vain, and he was
about to try in despair to bathe the poor lad's temples when the lips
softened, there was a choking gurgling sound, a gasp or two, and then
with strange avidity the midshipman drank and drank, spilling much, but
drinking a fair proportion, and as the cup was drained asking in a
hoarse, dry voice for more.
Instead of refilling the half nut Murray tore off another banana,
hastily skinned it, and placed that in his companion's hand, watching
him eat it, gazing about him the while, and then as he found that the
lad was recovering himself, he asked him if he could speak.
"Speak! Yes," cried the lad. "It is like life."
"That's right. Cheer up!"
"Water! More water;" cried Roberts.
"Yes, soon. Eat that first;" and he gave him another of the bananas.
"Where's Titely?"
"Titely? There," said Roberts, pointing.
"No, he is not there," said Murray excitedly. "Where has he gone?"
"He was there when I fell asleep."
"Has Tom May been back?"
"No; I have not seen him. But have you found more water and more
fruit?"
"Yes; I have found a plantation and a stream or long pool. But where
can Titely be?"
"I don't know. Can Tom May have fetched him?"
"No; he would have spoken to you."
"Perhaps he did, but I was half insensible and did not hear. Oh, Frank,
old man, you've saved my miserable life!"
"Thank heaven, old fellow! If we can only avoid the slavers we may hold
out till Mr Anderson or the captain comes to our help. But I must find
Titely. Perhaps he has crawled away. There, go on eating while I
search round. Go on eating and drinking; only leave enough for Tom May
when he comes back, and for Titely when I have found him."
"You have some too," said Roberts, who was beginning to recover fast,
save that his wound gave him increasing pain.
And now began a search which grew more and more hopeless as hours glided
by. There was no trace of the injured sailor, and no sign of Tom May's
return; and at last, when the first signs of the coming brief tropical
evening began to show themselves, and with them the desire for more
water and fruit, Murray made up his mind to guide his companion to the
negro's hut, after leaving by way of refreshment all the fruit and water
that was left, trusting to the fact that upon finding the refreshments
Tom May might go further and trace the way they had gone by means of the
blazings and other signs he had left upon the canes and trees.
It took some making up of the boy's mind before he could decide to leave
the place where they had hidden themselves for so long; but he felt
himself bound to try hard to place his wounded comrade in safety, and
where he could supply him amply with food and water; and at last,
hesitating no longer, he induced his companion to make an effort to
rise, and they started off together, after a final look round, for the
idea had forced itself upon Murray that if they did not go at once they
would not reach their haven of rest and refreshment before it grew dark.
As it was the task proved to be anxious enough before Murray succeeded
in getting his companion within the hut, where he sank down in weariness
and pain, but glad enough to drink heartily from a fresh nut cup of the
sweet, rather peculiarly coloured water, after which he dropped into a
complete state of insensibility, with a half-eaten banana grasped in his
hand, while Murray eagerly seized his opportunity to follow his brother
middy's example, drinking with avidity, and for his part eating almost
ravenously to master the weakness and hunger from which he suffered.
Satisfied with this, he set himself to watch and think about the two men
who were sharing their troubles.
"Tom must have come upon poor Titely somewhere, wandering from our
hiding-place," he thought, "and taken him back after I had gone with
Dick, and it is madness to go back to him. I couldn't do it in the
darkness, any more than he could track me out; and yet I don't know--I
ought to try and find him. Perhaps, poor fellow, he has found no food,
and may be nearly starved. I think I could find him, even if it is
dark. I ought to know the way to him after going over the ground twice.
I ought to, and I will--after I've had about an hour's rest. I must
have that, and then I'll start."
The midshipman sat and thought of the scene when they crouched together,
expecting moment by moment to be discovered.
The next minute his mind had wandered away to his search, the fortunate
discovery of the old hut and the cultivation carried out by some slave;
and then he came to the determination that he would crawl to where Dick
Roberts lay sleeping so heavily that his breathing had become a deep
snore.
"Poor fellow," he sighed; "he has suffered badly enough, but I ought to
try and put him in an easier position. It is his wound which makes him
so uneasy."
Then he thought he would wait a little longer before waking his comrade
and telling him that he was going back to the old hiding-place to say
where they were.
Murray had just come to the conclusion that he ought to be content with
the rest he had snatched, when there was a faint rustling sound just
beyond the doorway where he had seated himself, and like a flash he
recalled the scene in the planter's cottage where Tom May had shrunk
from going up into the chamber behind the screen on account of the
snakes--poisonous or not. This was a thatched cottage place, up whose
angles or sides one of the reptiles that had lurked among the bananas
and maize of the plantation could easily have made its way to the roof,
ready to descend upon any one sleeping on the floor.
So suggestive was this thought that the midshipman felt startled and
drew himself up slightly, feeling that he ought to go to his companion's
assistance.
"Perhaps poisonous," he thought, "and I may get a bite if I disturb it
in the darkness. Perhaps, too, it may be tired out as I am, and drop
asleep without molesting either me or Roberts. He's not sleeping so
heavily now," he thought, "and I ought to be off trying to find poor
worn-out and hungry Titely. I wonder how far he has wandered away from
where he was left. I ought to have found him, but it wasn't to be
helped. Tom will know now. I wonder how long it will take me to get to
where we left the poor fellow? But is that Dick Roberts breathing
hard--snoring--or is it one of those snakes creeping about in the
maize-leaf thatch? I wonder what I had better do! Of course I can't
leave poor Dick, but it's a pity that he should make all that noise. It
is like trying to betray himself.
"I think I must go and wake the poor fellow. It isn't fair to leave
him, of course. And it isn't fair to leave poor Tom May lying done up
and faint for want of water. It's rather hard, though, when I'm so done
up too;" and then he thought how beautiful it was with the soft yellow
moonlight of the tropical night shining through the Indian corn leaves
down through the roof of the flimsy hut, on to the floor close by where
Dick Roberts was sleeping so heavily.
But no, he was not sleeping so deeply now, for he was not snoring.
And then there was the snake, or snakes, that had been rustling about so
heavily. It or they were quite silent now. They had not bitten the
midshipman, for of course he would have shrieked out in pain or fear.
So perhaps the reptiles had crept right away, and it was quite time that
he, Frank Murray, started upon his quest to find Tom May and Bill
Titely. He ought in fact to have gone before, but he was so wearied-out
that he felt obliged to rest for a few minutes; and now the moon was
shining so brightly that it would be much better and easier to make a
start through the forest lit-up by the soft yellow rays of the tropic
night.
"Yes," he muttered to himself; "it will be much better. What a
beautiful night!"
And then he sat up; and again another moment and he had crawled out of
the hut doorway with his eyes widely open from wonder.
"Why, it isn't the moon, nor night!" he exclaimed, half aloud. "It's
morning, with the sun glowing through the shades of the forest, and I
must have been asleep for hours.--Or else," faltered Murray, after a
pause, "I'm off my head with fever, and don't know what I'm about."