RUNNING THE GANTLET
Maseden was not greatly concerned about the dead Indian lying on the
shore. What he really expected was a sudden rush of savages from an
ambuscade, since it was now certain that a party of natives had
descended on Hanover Island. Some might have escaped, but others had
come to grief.
The mere presence of a body showed that one, at least, must have died
quite recently, while the bleaching bones passed in Hell Gate had
probably been alive two days earlier. Some vultures were already
circling high overhead, and he wondered why the birds had not begun
their ghoulish task.
He could not recollect what manner of sepulture the aborigines adopted,
but, from every point of view, it was more than strange to find a corpse
abandoned on the beach in such conditions, unless, indeed, some drowned
man had just been cast up there by the receding tide.
If that were so, why did the vultures wait?
He was on the alert, therefore, for any suspicious movement among the
nearest trees and tall grasses, and warned Sturgess to keep a sharp
look-out in the same direction.
"These natives are treacherous brutes," he said. "They may have seen
that our boat was heading this way, and be simply waiting an opportunity
to stick harpoons into us. Don't shoot actually on sight, but be ready
to put a stopper on anything like an attack."
The words had hardly left his lips when the body on the beach moved!
Slowly and, as it seemed, painfully, the Indian raised head and
shoulders, and turned in the direction of the voice, finally sitting up
sideways and using the right arm as a support.
Then, as Maseden drew near, he saw that this was not a man, but a woman,
a woman so emaciated and feeble that the first astonished glance he took
her to be middle-aged, whereas, in reality, she was not yet eighteen.
She was stark naked, and he soon discovered that her left leg was
broken.
The unfortunate wretch had dragged herself to an oyster bed, as an array
of freshly opened shells testified; but there was no great supply in
that place; the water was too shallow. At any rate, Maseden had no other
means of estimating how long she had been there; indeed, he gave little
thought to that consideration, because the problem of what to do with
her arose instantly.
He argued, however, that the members of her tribe could not be close at
hand, since the merest instinct of self-preservation would lead them to
assist one of their number rendered helpless by an accident, though,
among these wild folk, an old woman might be regarded as of no account.
He spoke to her in Spanish, asking what had happened, and she appeared
to have a vague sense of his meaning; but her eyes were glistening with
terror and fever, and he could make nothing of a mumbled reply except a
word that sounded like _humo_, "smoke." She showed extreme fear at sight
of the gun carried by Sturgess. Holding out her left hand as if pleading
for mercy, she collapsed with a groan.
Sturgess, of course, was as fully aware as his companion of the
difficulties raised by the discovery of this maimed creature.
"Well, by way of a change, Alec, I guess we're up against a mighty tough
proposition," he said, scratching his head in sheer perplexity.
"We have only one course open, I take it," said Maseden, though he, like
Sturgess, felt that they might well have been spared this additional
burden.
"That's so. But--are broken legs in your line?"
"I have a notion that the bone-setter has to straighten and adjust the
fracture by main force, and then bind the limb tightly, leaving the
rest to nature. We have a spare oar. Chop the blade into two lengths of
about fifteen inches, and get the girls to cut narrow strips out of the
canvas cover. Bring me my oilskin, and what is left of the cover. We can
carry her in that. Leave the rifle with me--and hurry! On no account
must either Nina or Madge come away from the boat. Be sure and impress
that on them. We may have to run for our lives any second."
Sturgess soon returned with the improvised splints and bandages. He also
brought a tin of beef essence which Madge had found among the boat's
stores and was hoarding carefully for such Lucullian feast when soup
would appear on the menu.
When Maseden spoke of the remains of the canvas cover he had in mind the
fact that the girls had fashioned the greater part of the coarse
material into divided skirts. Seals were not plentiful in Rotunda Bay,
and the devising of garments had become a sheer necessity.
They persuaded the Indian girl to swallow some of the beef extract.
After tasting the first mouthful she would have emptied the tin, but
this Maseden would not permit, because he knew the ordeal that was
coming.
It was a tough job, too. In a sense, it almost proved more trying for
the amateur surgeons than for their unfortunate patient. Luckily, she
fainted at the first wrench. Then they set their teeth and pulled the
broken bones into their correct positions as well as they could adjudge
them. When the girl revived she was already clothed in the oilskin and
slung in the canvas sheet as in a hammock, while the limb was bound
immovably between two roughly fashioned splints.
Maseden imagined that this creature of the wild was, in all probability,
as hardy as a cormorant, and equally voracious. At any rate, when laid
in the boat, she gobbled up the remaining contents of the tin, ate
ravenously of ship's biscuits and salt beef, and drank a mug of coffee
in a gulp. When she discovered that no more food would be supplied she
yielded to an evidently overwhelming desire to sleep.
Before closing her eyes, however, she had something to say. She was
afraid of the men, but obviously placed trust in the two girls, neither
of whom knew a syllable of Spanish beyond the few phrases which all
travelers in South America must perforce acquire.
Madge, having the gift of music, contrived to mimic certain words with
tolerable accuracy, and "smoke," "boats," "bad men," seemed, to
Maseden's ear, to emerge from the guttural Indian accents. In one
important respect, the wishes of the new addition to the party were
quite understandable. She pointed to Providence Beach, indicated the
boat, and made it clear that she counselled a prompt move eastward.
At last Maseden evolved a fairly intelligible notion of what she was
endeavoring to convey. He believed, and rightly so, that she was telling
her rescuers how a number of Indians had been attracted to Hanover
Island by the smoke of the castaways' fire. They assumed a wreck, with
its prospect of loot, and, egged on by greed, had ultimately dared a
passage hitherto regarded as impracticable. Some had been killed; others
had escaped, and were now on the camping-ground at Providence Beach.
Apparently the girl was warning these strangers against her own people
and recommending a speedy flight to safer quarters. Oddly enough, her
advice coincided with Maseden's own views. By landing on that part of
the coast, and lighting a fire, they would be incurring a grave risk if
there were Indians about, since the few miles' strip of shore, difficult
though it was, would be negotiated easily by natives.
The abandonment of the injured girl he could not account for, nor was he
sure the boat had been observed, granted even that Providence Beach was
not actually occupied by savages. But he was not inclined to take any
chances. Deep water flowed yet in the main channel, and the day was not
far advanced.
So he and Sturgess shipped the oars and pulled until they were weary;
before night fell they had met the rising tide, and made a good landing,
not on Hanover Island, but on the eastern end of Island Number Two.
They slept in the boat as best they could, the men taking turns at
mounting guard, as in addition to the now somewhat improbable chance of
being attacked, their craft had to be maneuvered into slack water as the
tide rose and fell. They were all heartily glad to see the dawn and eat
a good meal.
The very smell of food awakened the Indian girl. Like a healthy animal
recovering from hardship, she was growing plumper and comelier under
their very eyes. With each hour she shed a year in appearance, and her
confidence increased in about the same ration.
When she discovered that Maseden alone spoke Spanish she tried to
explain matters to him. But her own knowledge of the language was of the
slightest, and he was only able to confirm his overnight belief as to
the danger of remaining in the vicinity of their first landing-place.
Singularly his close acquaintance with the San Juan _patois_ proved most
helpful. It occurred to him that this might be so, as the root words of
Indian tribes throughout the South American continent have undergone
fewer changes than would have been the case among civilized peoples.
Many were in use among the Spanish half-castes on the ranch, and this
aborigine grasped their meaning at once. Good linguist though he was,
however, Maseden failed to extract more than a glimmering of sense from
her uncouth accents.
But none could fail to be impressed by her relief when the boat was
afloat and traveling east. They soon quitted the channel between the
islands and entered the wide expanse of Nelson Straits. The weather was
fine, and a steady wind from the southwest encouraged Maseden to rig the
sail.
Having a wholesome respect for the Pacific tides, he meant to hug the
coast of Hanover Island. But after studying the clouds intently for an
hour, the Indian girl signified that she wished to be lifted in her
hammock. She then pointed to some small islands just distinguishable on
the horizon, and apparently situated in the middle of the straits.
She saw the hesitancy in Maseden's face, and by this time had evidently
singled him out as the leader of the party. Then she turned to Nina
Forbes, and her gestures said as plainly, no doubt, as her words:
"If _I_ can't persuade him, perhaps _you_ can. Tell him to take the
course I recommend."
For some reason Nina's cheeks grew scarlet under the brown tan of
constant exposure to the weather, nor did a pronounced wink by Sturgess
at Madge tend to restore her composure. But she met the Indian girl's
appeal with seeming nonchalance and bravely ignored the obvious
inference.
"I suppose she thinks that I may exercise some influence in the matter,
Alec," she said, striving in vain to suppress a nervous little laugh. "I
do honestly believe she means well. She is extraordinarily grateful to
us. I have been watching her, and there is a dog-like devotion in her
eyes when we render any little service that is reassuring."
"Those islets out there may be bare rocks," protested Maseden. He had
little knowledge of sailing boats, and hesitated at a long trip in these
fickle waters.
"Perhaps that is why she wishes us to go that way. They lie due east,
and that is something in their favor."
Still was he dubious, largely owing to the intervening stretch of open
sea, but again he essayed to question their would-be pilot.
The girl was quite emphatic in her direction as to the course, and
equally opposed to the more cautious method he favored. A good deal of
this was expressed in pantomime, but it was none the less
understandable.
Finally, finding that the others had faith in her, Maseden nodded to
Madge, who was at the tiller, as the rudder had been shipped when the
sail was hoisted; and the boat was put across the wind. The Indian girl
smiled, and was satisfied. They lifted her down to her place amidships,
where her head rested on the package of treasure, and she remained there
contentedly many hours.
Long before the violet-hued blurs in front took definite shape as a
group of two fair-sized islands, with trees, lying among a great many
stark rocks, sticking straight up out of the sea, the voyagers became
aware of at least one good reason for their guide's choice of direction.
The coast of Hanover Island began to fall away sharply to the northeast,
and a wide gap opened up between it and the nearest land, a gap which
must have been crossed in any event.
Maseden himself was the first to admit that they had been given sound
advice.
Luckily the wind remained steady, and brought their craft on at a fair
pace against a falling tide. Nevertheless it was a long sail, far longer
than any of them had anticipated, and the shadows were deepening when
the men again lifted the Indian girl level with the gunwale to find out
if she could recommend the safest way of approaching a particularly
forbidding shore.
She understood at once what they wanted, and indicated a narrow channel
between two gigantic outlying rocks. Though it was precisely the one of
three possible waterways which no stranger would have chosen, they did
not dream now of disputing her judgment. The passage was made more
easily than they had counted on, and a second time was their faith
justified, because a strip of white beach soon showed on the line where
trees and sea met.
The boat was run ashore, and a fire was lighted. The weather had become
much colder, probably owing to the absence of shelter from the hills
under which they had camped during the past month. The Indian girl
offered no objection to the fire. In fact, when laid near it in a sand
hollow, she fell asleep long before any of them.
The boat, of course, had to be safeguarded, as they landed at low water.
Were it not for a fissure in the rock which permitted them to row fully
a quarter of a mile nearer high-water mark than would have been possible
otherwise, they must have devoted a wearisome time to the task of
hauling her in as the tide rose. Fortunately, there was no heavy surf.
The reefs they had seen some fifteen miles to the westward had broken up
the long Pacific rollers, and the breeze was not strong enough to
disturb this inland sea.
Nina and Madge elected to sleep on the sand.
"You can have too much of a good thing," explained Madge laughingly,
"and, greatly as I prize our ark, I am tired of it to-day. Every bone in
my body is aching."
They had, of course, given up each skin and strip of canvas they
possessed in order to render the Indian girl more comfortable during the
voyage, and a ship's boat can be a most irksome conveyance in such
circumstances.
When the tide was high Sturgess and Maseden, before they, too, turned
in, rose to make sure that the anchor could not drag during the night,
and Sturgess electrified his friend by choosing that odd moment to
allude to the Cartagena marriage.
"Say, Alec," he said, "you sure have had the time of your life ever
since you were hauled off to San Juan and sentenced to be shot."
Maseden imagined that the New Yorker was merely referring to the
incidents following the shipwreck.
"I don't see exactly how life has been more of a sizzle for me than for
you and the girls," he said.
"Ah, come off it, Alec!" laughed the other. "You know better than that.
But I guess I'll have to hand the explanation on a tray. Madge and Nina
have told the facts about your wedding. Gosh! What a jolt it must have
given you to find your wife on board the _Southern Cross_!"
"You _know_?" gasped Maseden.
"Yep. They up and told me while you were gathering fire-wood. Nina said
she had promised you to put the full hand on the table at the first
opportunity. She's done it."
"Nina! Didn't Madge say anything?"
"You bet your life. She was tickled to death. It's been worrying her no
end."
"May I ask--"
"No, you mayn't. It was square of you, Alec, to insist that I should
come in on the inside track. Of course, I wasn't born and bred in little
old New York for nothing, and I had my doubts a while back. One day,
too, you were within an ace of blurting out the whole yarn. I remember
it well. I'm glad now you didn't. It would have made things kind of
difficult for me. But both girls are a bit shy where you're concerned.
You don't blame 'em, do you?"
Maseden was absolutely bewildered. Sturgess was an irresponsible,
devil-may-care fellow in many respects, but these effervescent qualities
cloaked a fine sensibility, and it was astounding to find him treating
the matter so lightly.
"I--I hardly know what to say," he stammered.
"Say nothing. The tangle will straighten out in time. We're going to win
through all right, so let us forget the San Juan affair till it
overtakes us. You ain't going to switch off from Nina on to Madge, I
guess, so you and I won't quarrel, and the other kinks in the chain will
sort themselves if we all go easy."
"Tell me this. What was the cause of the marriage?"
"I don't know."
"You don't _know_?" Each word was a crescendo of astonishment.
"No. What business is it of mine, anyhow?"
"But you yourself have told me that you mean to marry Madge."
"Sure as death."
"Yet--"
"Sorry, Alec. I've promised to keep mum. Suppose we leave it at that."
"What is there to keep mum about?"
"Hanged if _I_ can tell you, though you yourself haven't been what you
might call bursting with information during the past month."
"It was a woman's secret, C. K."
"And that's just how I size it up at this sitting."
Sturgess's logic was unanswerable, but Maseden was in high dudgeon as
he strode back to the camp-fire. He was far more angry with Nina than
with Madge. He suspected that Madge simply followed her sister's
instructions, and the injustice of this steady refusal of confidence
was aggravated by the fact that Sturgess seemed to know more about the
ins and outs of the affair now than he did.
True, the New Yorker said he was still in ignorance of the motive which
led up to the marriage, yet he had hinted at the possession of knowledge
withheld from the man who had saved their lives not once but a dozen
times. Nina was to blame. Maseden was certain of that. He would have
liked to shake her.
As it happened, she was either sound asleep or pretending it, so he,
too, curled up in the sand and slept till long after dawn.
The new day began with an unexpected difficulty. The Indian girl was
cheerful as a grig during breakfast. She ascertained their names, which
she pronounced fairly well. "Nina" she had no trouble with. "Madge" she
made into "Mad-je." Maseden was "Ah-lek," and Sturgess "See-ke." Her
own name had a barbarous sound, if, indeed, it was a name at all; so
Madge christened her "Topsy," which seemed to please her. But her
light-heartedness vanished when she saw preparations being made to renew
the voyage. She protested volubly, pointed to a colony of seals and
well-filled beds of oysters, and generally implied an earnest desire to
remain on the island.
Eastward, it would appear, were other "bad men" and "much smoke," but,
whatsoever her motive, Maseden sternly overruled her. She was greatly
distressed when placed on board the boat, and sulked for a couple of
hours. As the coast drew near, however, she evinced renewed anxiety, and
signified that she would act as pilot again.
The land seemed to be a replica of seaward islands; a fast-running tidal
stream passed due east between two gaunt promontories. According to
Maseden's reckoning the straits they were now entering should open into
Smyth's Channel, and he bent his wits to the task of getting Topsy to
understand that he wanted to meet one of the big ships which follow that
route.
He believed she understood, but there could be no doubting she was so
deeply concerned as to the probable whereabouts of the inhabitants of
the coast region that she gave little heed to the wishes of her
rescuers.
Oblivious of the pain she must be enduring, she contrived to
perch herself in the bows, and scanned each bay and inlet of the
ever-narrowing passage, though this was no subsidiary channel, but a
deep and swift tide-way. The wind was strong and favorable and the boat
was traveling fully eight knots an hour, a speed which no native craft
could hope to rival. Still, Topsy's marked uneasiness led Maseden to
examine the rifle and make sure that its mechanism was in good order
and the magazine charged.
He had no definite notion as to the type of weapons used by the Indians.
Nearly all savages are armed with spears and clubs, but he believed
that a people so low in the social scale as these South American nomads
would not possess firearms. At any rate, he bade all hands keep a sharp
look-out, and specifically ordered Sturgess and the girls to take cover
in the event of an attack, unless an actual attempt was made to board
the boat, in which case the girls could thrust with the rapiers and
Sturgess might do good work with an ax.
They ran on several miles without incident, and were beginning to think
that their guide was, perhaps, swayed more by recollection of earlier
sufferings than by any active peril of the hour, when Topsy, whose
piercing black eyes were ever and anon turned to the bluffs on either
hand, uttered a sharp cry and pointed to a low cliff overhanging a bay
they had just passed on the left.
Three thin columns of smoke were ascending from its summit.
Maseden could make nothing of her excited speech, but he understood her
gestures readily, and took it that the smoke was a signal, while the
danger, whatever it may be, lay ahead.
And, indeed, they had not long to wait for an explanation. From around
a point not a mile distant, and directly in front, appeared a number of
coracles, eight all told, and each containing two men, or a man and a
woman. It was clear that this flotilla meant to waylay them, and the
terror exhibited by the Indian girl was only too eloquent as to the fate
of the boat's occupants if they allowed themselves to be overpowered.
Maseden disposed his forces promptly. Sturgess was given the tiller.
Topsy was put back on her couch in the bottom of the boat, and Nina and
Madge were told to crouch by her side until their help was called for.
From the outset the Americans did not dream of attempting to parley.
Topsy's unfeigned dread was sufficient to ban any such quixotic notion.
The coracles were strung out in an irregular line, covering a width of
about four hundred yards, and, in laying his plans, Maseden recalled the
strategy of a certain great admiral.
"Head slap for their center," he told Sturgess confidently. "That
was Nelson's favorite way of attack. If possible, he always broke
the enemy's line in two, and I suppose it paid him. I think these
heavy-caliber bullets will rip a native craft as though it were made
of brown paper, and I should be able to sink at least four before
the others can close in."
Sturgess nodded.
"What Nelson says goes," he grinned.
The battle opened at a range of one hundred yards, and Maseden's first
shot buckled the framework of the nearest coracle, so that it sank like
a stone. There was a spurt of steam as the fire which every Indian boat
carries reached the water, and two men swam away like otters.
The second shot struck a little too high. It whizzed through the craft's
hide cover and lodged in an Indian's body, because the man yelled
frantically. Maseden fired again, and damaged another coracle.
But by this time he had made the unpleasing discovery that these light
skiffs could be propelled very rapidly for a short distance. In each a
man or woman was paddling with furious energy, while their companions
were using slings. Small, heavy stones rattled against and into the
boat.
Sturgess was struck twice on the breast and left shoulder, and was only
saved from serious injury by the stout oilskin coat he was wearing. Even
so, he went white with pain, but he neither uttered a word nor neglected
his task, which was to keep the sail filled and the boat traveling.
Maseden had two objects in mind--to beat off their assailants and yet
keep sufficient ammunition in stock lest other Indians were encountered
later. He sank two more coracles, and had killed or wounded three men,
when a flint pebble struck him on the head, finding the exact spot where
he was injured during the wreck.
He sank to his knees, and tried to say something. He believed he heard a
crash and some shouting. Then the sky and hills and swift-running waters
whirled in a mad dance before his eyes, and he lost consciousness.