"Come on," said Jack, after they had stood listening for a few minutes,
and gazing in the direction taken by the pigs. "Is it any use looking
for the arrows?"
"Not a bit, sir. Here, only let me find one lying asleep in the mud
somewhere. I dare say there's, dozens doing it now, with their eyes
shut, and their curly tails pretending to whisk away the flies. Come
on, sir, we must keep going, hot as it is. Never mind, we shall do it
yet, but next time I'm not going to trust to bows and arrows. You shall
hunt them down to where I'm hiding, and I'll skewer one somehow or
another."
But in the next two hours' weary struggle among trees, rocks, and waving
creepers they only heard pigs once, and then it was as they dashed off
unseen, grunting and squealing wildly. Birds were scarcer and very
small, while they felt no temptation to try the esculent qualities of
the lizards they saw glancing about over the hot lava, or of the snakes
which hurriedly crawled away.
They were successful though in finding a trickling stream of pure cold
water, and a tree bearing a kind of fruit something like a poor, small
apricot with a very large stone. It was bitter and sour, but it did, as
Ned said, to clean your teeth.
Three more arrows were lost in shooting at birds, but without success,
and Ned shook his head.
"I don't know how it is with you, sir," he said, "but my arm has had
such a long rest that the muscles now seem to be too strong, and they
must have jerked the bow just when I let go the string."
"I can soon tell you how it is with me, Ned," said Jack. "I never could
use a bow and arrow, so of course I can't now."
They struggled on, growing less cautious in their eagerness to get down
to the shore.
"Shall get some cocoanuts there, if we can't get anything else, sir,"
said Ned; "but I do hope it will be somewhere near the yacht."
"But how are we to signal them if we don't get there before dark?"
"Light a fire on the sands, sir. Oh, don't you be afraid of that. It's
the getting there is the difficulty."
It was growing well on in the afternoon when this was said, and, so weak
and exhausted that they could hardly struggle on, they welcomed an open
slope covered with some creeping kind of plant, as it seemed, for it
offered the prospect of getting along better for a couple of hundred
yards. Here, too, they could see down a ravine to the reef, which
seemed to be wonderfully close at hand, though they knew that they had
miles to struggle over before they could reach the sands--and such
miles.
"Let's make for that valley, Ned, and try to go down there."
"Very well, sir; just which way you like. Seems all the same; but let's
get close up to the trees, though it's furthest, for we may find some
kind of fruit. What a country! Not so much as an apple, let alone a
pear, or--Mr Jack, sir! Oh!"
"What is it?" cried Jack, startled by his companion's excitement. "What
have you found?"
For Ned had thrown himself upon his knees, and with one end of the bow
was tearing away at the straggling plants which covered the ground
wherever it was not rocky or smothered by bush.
"Can't you see, sir? Here, come and help. _'Taters_!"
"What?" cried Jack.
"Yes, 'taters, sir; only little 'uns. Not so big as noo potaties at
home, but 'taters they are. Look!"
"Fingers were made before forks," says the old proverb, so under the
circumstances it was not surprising that Ned began to use his hands as
if they were gardener's potato forks, and with such success that in a
short time quite a little heap of the yellow tubers were dug out of the
loose sandy soil, the average size being that of walnuts.
Jack set to work at once to help, but he had hardly dragged away a
couple of handfuls of haulm when he started up with a cry of alarm.
Ned leaped up too and seized his spear, expecting to have to face the
blacks; but the enemy was a good-sized snake which had been nestling
beneath the thick stalks of the plants, and now stood up fully three
feet above the tops of the growth, with head drawn back, moving to and
fro as if about to launch itself forward and strike at the first who
approached it.
"Stand back, Mr Jack," cried the man, and with one mower-like sweep of
his spear-handle he caught the serpent a few inches below its
threatening head, and it dropped writhing at once, with its vertebras
broken.
"Can't stand any nonsense from things like that, sir," cried Ned, as he
took his spear now as if it had been a pitchfork, raised the twining
reptile from among the haulms, and after carrying it a few yards, threw
it cleverly right away among the bushes at the side.
"Take care, perhaps there are more," said Jack. "So much the worse for
them if there are, sir. I want the 'taters, and I'd have 'em if the
place was full of boa-constrictors as big as they grow. Come on."
In a very short time they had their pockets and handkerchiefs full, the
tubers coming out of the hot, dry, sandy soil perfectly clean; and thus
furnished, they made for a spot where the lava rock was piled up,
selected a niche, and scraped out a sandy hollow about a couple of feet
across, laid the potatoes down singly and close together, covered them
again with the sand, and then turned to the edge of the nearest patch of
trees to gather dead boughs, leaves, everything they could which seemed
likely to burn, and carried it to their improvised oven.
"Suppose the blacks see the smoke of the fire?" said Jack, as they piled
up the smaller twigs and leaves over the potatoes, and Ned brought out
his box of matches.
"I can't suppose anything, sir, only that we must eat. If they do come
on for a fair fight, I'm ready. Fight I will for these 'taters, come
what may."
The leaves and twigs caught readily, and the smoke began to curl up in
the clear sunny air, as bigger and bigger pieces of wood were thrown on.
Then as they went to the foot of the trees for more of that which lay
in abundance, they glanced in all directions, but all was silent and
solitary, with the beautifully-shaped mountain curving up above them,
and a faint mist as of heat just visible in transparent wreaths above
its summit.
"Don't let's take too much, Mr Jack--only a little at a time, so as to
have to come again and again."
"Why not take as much as we can carry now?"
"Because if we do we can't put it all on at once, and we only want a
nice gentle fire, and to keep on mending it till there are plenty of
ashes."
"Well, we need not put it all on if we've got it there."
"But we must have something to do, sir."
"Well, lie down and rest till the potatoes are done."
"You don't know what you're talking about, sir. You can't think of what
agony it will be. They must have half-an-hour, and it will seem like a
week. You take my advice, sir. I'm sure it's right."
"Very well," said Jack, and they kept on going to and fro, breaking
enough to keep on feeding the fire, and trying hard not to think about
what was cooking, as they still piled on the twigs and branches of dead
wood, Ned busying himself in breaking them up, far more than was
necessary in his desperate determination not to be tempted to draw out a
single tuber before they were done.
"I know what 'taters are, sir," he said between his teeth, "and as bad
as can be really raw, but the gloriousest things as ever were for a
hungry man when he has got nothing else. But what a pity it is! If
we'd had our guns we could soon have brought down a skewerful or two of
those green and scarlet parrots to roast, and--Oh, don't talk about it.
Makes my mouth water horribly."
"Think they're done now, Ned?" said Jack, after three or four journeys
to and fro.
"No, sir, nor yet half. The sand underneath has to get hot. I tell you
what, we'll dig up some more and put them in the hot ashes after these
are done, to cook and take away with us. They'll do all right while
we're eating our dinner."
"Very well," said Jack, as he tried hard to curb his impatience, "but
it's terrible, this waiting."
"Try not to think about it, please, sir. There, let's make up the fire
once more, and then go and dig."
The wood was fetched and thrown on, both standing a little back
afterward, and having a hard struggle to keep from raking out two or
three of the potatoes to try if they were done, but they mastered
themselves bravely, and hurried to the spot where they had dug before,
to find it taken possession of by a larger and thicker snake than the
one that had been killed. It was coiled up on the dry sand which they
had cleared of leaves, and rose up menacingly at their approach.
"What shall we do--go somewhere else?" said Jack.
"No, sir, that we won't," cried Ned fiercely. "If that long eely thing
chooses to play dog in the manger over the potatoes, it must take the
consequences. I'll soon finish him. Think he's poisonous?"
"I feel sure of it, Ned," said Jack anxiously. "Look at the swollen
poison glands."
"That settles it. Seems to me like a duty to kill poisonous things. I
know what it is to be poisoned, sir."
He gave his shoulder a twist, and advanced toward the serpent with his
spear-handle ready.
"You keep back, sir, and let me have room to swing my spear round."
"No; I want to kill this one, Ned."
"Better not, sir. It's risky. You might miss."
"You be ready to strike him if I do."
"Very well then, sir; only be careful. A good swish round will do it,
but snakes are quick as lightning, and we've had trouble enough without
you getting bitten."
The snake rose higher, and prepared to strike as Jack advanced, holding
his spear in both hands, and waiting his opportunity, he brought it
round with all his force, but the end passed, through his miscalculation
of the distance, a couple of inches short of the reptile's head, and
before the lad could recover himself to make another blow, the creature
struck back, and would have fastened upon him but for Ned's quick
interposition of his own spear-handle, against which the serpent struck
instead.
The next moment Ned struck again, full on the creature's back, and it
was helpless now for attack, writhing in amongst the growth till Jack
obtained another fine cut at it, and the battle was at an end.
Ned picked it, up upon the end of his spear.
"They say that things are good if roasted, sir. What do you say--shall
we cook him?"
"Ugh! No. Throw the horrible thing away."
"Yes, sir; off it goes. One wants another day's starving to eat roast
snake."
He sent the nearly dead creature whirling through the air with a sudden
jerk of his spear-handle, and then turned to Jack.
"Now, sir," he said, "as quick as you can, and then--"
He did not finish his sentence, but threw himself upon his knees again.
Jack followed his example, and for about ten minutes they busied
themselves getting another load, and then ran to the fireside and
emptied all they had into a heap.
"Now then," cried Ned; "but be careful, sir; they'll be horribly hot."
Jack said nothing, but looked on while his companion thrust the still
burning wood aside with his spear, then swept off the thick bed of
glowing embers, and lastly the hot sand, before turning the potatoes out
into a heap on the other side, and spreading them to cool.
"Let 'em be, sir, till we've charged the oven again," cried Ned, and the
fight now was harder than ever as they began to throw the fresh batch
into the hot pit. But it was done, and the sand swept over them. The
glowing embers followed, the wood was piled on, to begin crackling and
blazing, and then, and then only, did they fall to.
Only a meal of little hot roasted potatoes, without butter, pepper, or
salt, but no banquet of the choicest luxuries could have tasted half so
good. They were done to a turn, and though very small, of the most
desirable flavour, and satisfying to a degree.
"Try another, sir, try another," Ned kept on saying; but Jack needed no
urging, and as he sat there eating one after another, the sun seemed to
be less hot, the place around more beautiful, the shore less distant,
and the possibility of their reaching the yacht that night more and more
of a certainty. But that certainty began to grow into doubt when, well
satisfied by their meal, the pair lay back to rest a little before
making a fresh start.
"Must give the second batch time to get well done, sir, and to cool a
bit, before we toddle, and then we ought to be on the look-out for
water. A good drink wouldn't come amiss."
"No," replied Jack slowly; "but hadn't we better get some more wood to
put on? The fire's getting very low."
"No, sir, it's just right. There's a good heap of embers now, and by
the time the wood's all burned the potatoes will be about done. Think
any one planted them here first?"
"I should say they were planted by the captain who left the pigs."
"Then I say he ought to have a monument, sir, for it was the finest
thing he ever did in his life--much finer than anything I shall ever do.
My, how different everything looks after you've had a good feed!"