If to be sailing northwards and east with a spanking breeze, and the
great sea of southern ice in which, and on which, so many adventures had
been had, was being homeward bound--then were our heroes homeward bound.
It is a nice thing to sing about anyhow of an evening around a cheerful
fire; but ah! as I've said before there is many a slip 'twixt the cup
and the lip, and there is nothing certain at sea save the unexpected.
However, bold Captain Talbot had no intentions of returning to England
with what he called only half a voyage.
"I'm going to do my level best," he told the boys about a fortnight
after they had got clear and away, "to have a bumper ship, that shall
recoup us all for our outlay, to say nothing of our sufferings."
"And now we're bearing up for Kerguelen, aren't we?" said Conal.
"That's the place, lad; and I'm a Dutchman if we don't find the
elephant-seals there in countless thousands."
"And when we fill up, what then?"
"O, that question I was considering last night in bed, and I've
concluded we had better leave our cargo at the Cape. We can sell well
there at present, for oil is much needed. Then we shall clean ship
thoroughly, and sail northwards by the Indian Ocean, picking up a cargo
at the Cape, at Zanzibar, and wherever else we can find it. We can't go
wrong."
"And back home through the Suez Canal. Is that your idea, sir?" said
the mate.
"You've hit it completely, Morgan."
"You must remember," he continued after a pause, during which he had
been watching the smoke that curled from his lips towards the roof of
the saloon, "that I look upon this only as an experimental voyage, and
as such it hasn't proved altogether a failure. We shall clear our feet
and pay our way, boys; and our adventures will be the theme of many a
lecture when at last we reach the old country.
"And not that only, for our success will enable us to float a good
company for sealing and steam-whaling in the Antarctic seas. You see,
boys, I've been north and south. I've been what you well may term from
pole to pole. Well, my opinion is, that although the Arctic lies
handier to our own doors than the Antarctic, still it is almost played
out. They have been going it among the baby seals a trifle too fast,
and have given them no close season, so though I don't say they've
killed them nearly all off, still they have scared them pretty
considerably, and the modern Arctic seal isn't the innocent confiding
creature he was in the days of my boyhood. No, he has got far more
wary, and so packs of them are more difficult to find than formerly.
"And as for Right whales, well, they are far wiser than we have any idea
of. Their kingdom is a boundless one. It is the ocean wild and wide,
and if they cannot have peace to gather in schools, and enjoy their
little parties in the north, why, they are free to come to the
Antarctic. And that is just what they have done.
"Well, lads, we shall do something in it, be assured. But we've got to
have steam. Strong screw steamers with all appliances to repair damages
of every kind; and steam ice-hammers as well. You've thrown in your lot
with me, boys, and my name isn't Talbot if I don't help you to make a
good thing of it."
"The Antarctic is very far away from England," said Frank thoughtfully.
"There you're right, lad. You are thinking of the expense?"
"Yes."
"Ah! but our company will not bring their ships home to Britain. No,
they will cruise from the Antarctic to the very nearest markets--in
Australia, for instance. And so it will pay. For should we lose a ship
or two, well, the insurance companies must pay that, and they are well
able to.
"So that is my scheme, boys, and, on the whole, I don't think it is a
bad one. There are so few ways of making fortunes nowadays that when
one gets the ball at his foot, he is a fool if he does not hit it as
hard as he knows how to."
----
The voyage to the Kerguelen islands was a very propitious one, and every
one on board the sturdy _Flora M'Vayne_ was as happy as the day was
long. Vike seemed to have got a new lease of life, and wallowed in the
sunshine.
"It is such a change, you know," he told Conal, "and I believe we'll
soon be back once more in bonnie Scotland, and won't I tear around the
hills just!"
The monkey was less melancholy now, and the cough which troubled him so
much while in the ice, appeared to have quite gone.
And old Pen seemed to be almost beside himself with delight. He used to
go tearing along the decks, flapping his wings and shrieking as if
possessed, and even in his calmer moods he would sometimes leap up
suddenly and practise waltzing all alone.
There was a delightful breeze nearly all the time. If not astern it was
a beam wind, and so the _Flora_ went ripping through the dark-blue seas,
every wave of which sparkled in the sunshine.
Many whales were seen, but as Talbot depended most on getting among the
elephants now, boats were never lowered to go whaling.
Frank spent much of his time in the crow's-nest.
He was not afraid to swing through the sky at that giddy height,
although the first time he clambered up he believed that the crew would
have to lower him down with block-and-tackle, he was so thoroughly
frightened.
"On deck there!" rang the young fellow's voice one forenoon from the
nest.
"Ay, ay, lad," from the skipper.
"Land in sight!"
"Where away?"
"On the starboard bow."
"And what does it look like?"
"I can only raise some mountain cones. They seem volcanic, and their
sides are covered with snow."
"Bravo! Come down and I'll get up myself."
Frank was soon on deck.
"Well done, Frank," said Talbot laughing. "I promised a pair of canvas
trousers to the man who should first sight land, and you shall have
them."
"Yes, thank you, and I shall wear them too."
Away went the skipper up to the crow's-nest, and before long came an
order to alter the course a point or two.
Close to the Islands of Desolation, as Kerguelen is called, it was fully
a week before the _Flora M'Vayne_ was able to reach and enter one of the
friths or creeks. For on the very day on which land was sighted a
fearful hurricane swept down on the ship, and so suddenly, too, that
before sails could be taken in many were rent into ribbons, that cracked
and rattled with a sound like the independent firing of troops in
action. There was no standing against wind of this awful violence, and
it was necessary to run for it under what is termed "bare poles", that
is, the smallest amount of sail that can be carried with steering power.
But Kerguelen is the region of hurricanes, and few ships that visit
these wild shores escape with impunity.
The coast of the chief islands was found to be iron-bound, high, barren,
and rocky, but when they entered and sailed along one of the creeks,
scenery of quite a different kind was met with.
It would be difficult indeed to exaggerate the strange, wild, but
solitary beauty of this scenery. Solitary, that is, as regards sight or
sign of human being.
But bird life was in evidence everywhere; in fact, Kerguelen might be
called the home of the sea-birds. They have seen but little of man,
however, and know nothing of his evil or demoniacal ways. They look
upon him only as a curious kind of biped, of the penguin species, but
without feathers.
Well, when Duncan or Frank went on shore for a walk with the skipper,
the gulls, the petrels, the penguins, the albatrosses, and cormorants
flew around them in thousands, and the din they made was almost
deafening.
Nor were our heroes free altogether from their attentions, which
sometimes were rather of an objectionable character, especially when
students of nature in the shape of huge yellow-cheeked penguins waddled
up to the place where they were sitting, and began examining their
jackets with the greatest curiosity. Pecking holes in them, too, and
pulling at them.
When rudely thrust off they would retire but a little way, and stand
watching the boys with great interest.
"Well, I never!" they seemed to say, looking at them from one side of
their heads.
"Well, I'm gee-whizzled!" gazing at them with the other.
"Penguins, aren't you? But the ugliest lot ever we saw. We really
wonder your mothers allow you go about like that!"
To-day Captain Talbot and his boys went exploring, but a man was with
them to carry the game they killed, and these consisted chiefly of ducks
and rabbits. The former showed no fear, but the latter scurried away at
once.
They journeyed far inland, and made many interesting discoveries, which
proved that these islands are not so utterly useless as they are
supposed to be. Indeed, they could be worked profitably both for coals
and oil.
And Talbot made a general survey of the regions traversed and took ample
notes.
"This would make an excellent centre for our great Antarctic whaling and
sealing expedition," he said. "And you and I, boys, might build
ourselves a house just under the shelter of these green lichen-clad
rocks yonder."
"Oh, it would be awfully nice!" cried Frank.
"And couldn't we have a garden?"
"Yes, and plant and grow crops."
"And trees?"
"Yes, again, and if we are spared to come back here we shall bring with
us a few hundreds of young pine-trees--Scotch, and spruce--and plenty of
seed."
"How delightful! I should like so much to be a Crusoe. But listen!
Surely that was a dog barking high up the hill yonder."
And so it was, for next moment down came Vike with a rabbit in his
mouth.
"Why, Vike," cried Duncan, "we left you on board."
"Very likely," said Vike, speaking with his tail and eyes as he lay
there panting from his exertions, with about two yards--more or less--of
pink tongue hanging out over his alabaster teeth. "Very likely, but
five hundred yards of a swim isn't much to a dog like me. And what is
more. Wowff, wowff! you had no business to bolt away without me.
Wowff! Don't do it again!"
"Well, now," said Talbot to his mate next day at breakfast, "what do you
say to stay here till we lay in a real good cargo, for outside the
elephants are in thousands, and the poor things have young beside them
too."
"The idea is excellent, sir," said Morgan, "and I have another."
"Out with it, mate. We can't have too many ideas in this world, if we
mean to be successful. These ideas of ours don't all hold water; but
then we can go over them at our leisure and pick out the best."
"That's it, sir. Well, why not get all the skins we can procure, and
then make off the oil. Coals are plentiful on shore, and we have
cauldrons, you know."
"Bravo! Morgan. That is just what we shall do."
So after breakfast boats were called away, and returned in the evening
laden to the gunwales.
So the vessel was shifted nearer to the open sea, and thus the whalers
could go and return twice or even thrice in one day with their hauls.
It was no easy work, you may well believe, when I tell you that the skin
and blubber of one of these huge sea-elephants sometimes weighed eight
hundred-weight.
Poor, great, innocent brutes, it did seem a shame to kill their young
before their eyes! The sight of the blood made mothers and fathers
frantic, and they rushed on shore as if bent on revenge, but only to
fall victims to the rifles of the gunners.
It was a bloody and terrible scene, and I have no desire to describe it.
Indeed, were I to tell the reader one quarter of the cruelties I have
seen enacted by sealers, I should so harrow his feelings that his dreams
would not be pleasant for one night afterwards.
Not merely for a fortnight, but for more than three weeks did the
_Flora_ lie at Kerguelen, but in a sheltered cove, so that the
hurricanes, that on four or five different occasions swept down from the
mountains with terrific violence, had but little effect on her. By this
time they had boiled down all their oil, salted all their skins and
tanked them, and were in reality a bumper ship.
I must not forget one little incident that took place about a week after
their arrival.
One day that extremely wise and wondrous bird, Old Pen, went hopping
down the starboard gangway and leapt into the sea.
Vike, who had been observing him, sprang right off the bulwark and tried
most energetically to head him off.
The bird and dog met face to face, and it really seemed as if a
conversation somewhat as follows took place.
Old Pen: "Hullo, what's your game?"
Viking: "I'm going to rush you back to your ship."
O. P.: "Your grandmother! I won't be rushed. I can swim better than
you, and dive like a fish-hawk. So don't let us quarrel. In spring, you
know, a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love. I've got
an appointment on shore here. Ta, ta! Be as good's ye can."
Vike: "But I say, Old Pen--"
Old Pen had dived and was out of sight, and so Vike swam sadly back to
the ship once more.
Just a few hours, however, before the anchor was got up, and while the
crew were busy shaking out the sails before departing for the far west,
something between a squawk and a squeal was heard alongside, and, sure
enough, there was Old Pen come back again.
He was assisted on board, and shook himself as unconcernedly as if
nothing unusual had happened.
But Viking's delight knew no bounds, nor did that of little Johnnie
Shingles. The former went tearing round and round the deck, like a
hairy hurricane.
"If I don't allay my feelings thus," cried Vike, "I shall go clean off
my chump."
Now it happened that Frank was on deck with his fiddle, ready to play to
the men as they got up the anchor.
But, seeing how matters stood, he instantly struck up a lively
schottische.
"Squawk--s--squaw--awk!" cried Old Pen, waving his flippers.
"Hurray!" cried Johnnie, and next moment he and his strange partner were
whirling round and round on the quarter-deck, in one of the maddest,
merriest dances that surely ever yet was seen.
And I don't believe there was a soul on board who was not rejoiced that
Old Pen had returned once again.
That evening they were far away on the quiet and lonesome sea, and,
standing by the fire in the saloon warming his flat feet, one by one, as
usual, was Old Pen, while near him, sound asleep, lay Vike.
"Awfully good of the bird to come off in time, wasn't it, boys?" said
the skipper, relighting his pipe. "If he hadn't come back I should have
believed I was about to be deserted by all my good fortune.
"We are glad to see you, Pen, and hope you'll never leave us again. But
what put it into your silly noddle to go away at all, Pen?"
Pen made two hops of the space between him and the captain. Then
leaning his head on his knee he looked up drolly with one eye--which
being half-closed gave him the appearance of winking.
"I did think of getting spliced, you know," he seemed to say, "and more
than one lovely Lady Pen asked me to fly with her to a foreign shore.
Nary a fly," says I, "not if Pen knows it. Marriage is a precarious
kind of experiment, so after flirting around for a bit I remembered my
old friends and just floated off again."
----
Fine weather all the way to the Cape, with stunsails set 'low and aloft
most of the time.
Ah, reader, there isn't much to beat the life a sailor leads after all!
In foul weather? Yes, foul or fine, and it isn't always blowing big
guns at sea.
And Jack has no undergrowth of care to curl round the very roots of his
life, and try to swamp him.
If he does his duty--and what real sailor doesn't?--he may be as happy
and jolly as the Prince of Wales, only a vast deal more so.
Besides, what Jack afloat is there, who has not some loved one to think
of when far away at sea; someone that he knows right well is thinking,
ay, and praying, for him. So even in storm and in danger Jack may sing:
"Blow high, blow low, let tempests tear
The main-mast by the board;
My heart with thoughts of thee, my dear,
And love well stored,
Shall brave all danger, scorn all fear.
The roaring winds, the raging sea,
In hopes on shore,
To be once more,
Safe moor'd with thee."
----
The crow's-nest had been taken down, but stride-legs on the
foretop-gallant cross-trees sat Frank one sunny forenoon. Gently to and
fro swings the ship, the top-masts forming the arc of a great circle.
But Frank minds not the motion.
He is an ancient mariner now.
Or he thinks he is.
"On deck there!"
It is a shout which is half hysterical with joy.
"Land on the lee-bow. The Cape, sir! The Cape!"
Then a cheer rises up from far below that makes the very sails shiver.
Vike starts up and barks, and taking this for an invitation to dance,
Old Pen with a squawk and a squeal springs up, and next minute Johnnie
Shingles and he are wheeling round in fine style on the quarter-deck.
"Land! Land! Land!" And, for a time at least, the dangers of the deep
are past.
BOOK III.
IN THE LAND OF THE NUGGET AND DIAMOND.
CHAPTER I.--SHIPWRECK ON A LONELY ISLE.
This book opens amidst scenery far different indeed from that which I
had to describe in my last.
I should like the reader to bear in mind that my youthful heroes were
very far indeed from being mercenary, and were just at that age, when
wild adventure appeals to the heart of a young fellow who has any spark
of manhood in his composition.
Certainly they had sailed in search of fortune, but it was not on their
own account they were seeking for wealth, as I have endeavoured to show.
Well, even already, they had been fairly fortunate. They had not buried
their talents in the earth, nor in the ocean either, and at the Cape of
Good Hope their cargo brought them in so much, that the fortunes of all
who had a share in the ship was not only doubled but tripled.
They had, immediately after clearing out, employed a gang of heathens,
as Morgan always called people with dark skins, to thoroughly scour and
disinfect the ship. They had been employed for days at the work, under
the lash of a ganger, the ganger himself being under the watchful eye of
Morgan the first mate.
And so the work was perfectly done.
Then fresh and cleanly cargo was laid in, which would doubtless fetch a
big price in the London market. This consisted of wool, firmly bound
and packed into small compass; ostrich feathers, and wine, to say
nothing of curios. They did not quite fill up, however, hoping to make
even better bargains up the coast.
And so they did, especially as regards ostrich feathers, gum copal,
pepper, nutmegs and arrow-root.
They called at Zanzibar, one of the strangest cities on earth, and here,
while the _Flora M'Vayne_ lay quietly at anchor in the beautiful open
roadstead, where floated ships bearing the ensigns of at least half a
dozen different nations, the boys went on shore, taking Vike with them,
and enjoyed most thoroughly not only rambles through the crowded
streets, but out in the beautiful bush, where they could revel in the
rarest and most delicious fruits the world can grow.
I need but mention mangoes, guavas, and cocoa-nuts, to say nothing of
huge pine-apples, with the tropical sun-tints on their rough but shining
rinds, and perfume as sweet even as their luscious taste and flavour.
But here were no wild adventures, so that the lads were not sorry when
the anchor was once more weighed, and the ship far away on the heaving
sea.
It was the captain's intention to be towed through the canal, but lo!
and alas! from the very first day of their leaving Zanzibar misfortune
attended them.
One of these terrible circular storms, all too common in the Indian
Ocean, and called typhoons, came roaring down upon them with scarcely a
minute's warning.
The higher sails were blown into ribbons, the topgallant masts carried
away, and the gallant ship thrown so much on her beam-ends, that the
water came over the lee rails.
She righted again, it is true. And speedily too; and now like some
living frightened creature she literally flew before the fearful storm.
As speedily as possible the sails that were not split were taken in.
This was a very dangerous employment, and one poor fellow was blown off
the yardarm.
Nicholson was his name, and he was a powerful swimmer, but useful though
this art of swimming is, what could it avail him in a sea like that!
For just a moment or two his brave and handsome face was seen among the
surf in the wake.
He waved his hand once, as if bidding his comrades all adieu, then sank
to rise no more.
As a rule, circular storms do not last for a very long time, and a good
sailor like Talbot knows how to manoeuvre his ship so as to get clear as
speedily as possible; but this typhoon ended in a gale, which in force
was quite a hurricane.
And this kept on for several days.
The last night was the worst. About six o'clock in the evening the sun
went down in a brassy haze, behind the foam-crested turmoil of waves;
and the wind seemed still on the increase.
Not a star to-night.
It was pitchy dark, for the horizon was close aboard of the
storm-tormented ship, and the clouds may have been half a mile in depth.
There were two men at the wheel, and those who had to keep watch were
fain to lash themselves to rigging or shrouds.
But keeping watch is here but a figure of speech. What watch could be
kept in a dark so dark? There was no thunder that could be heard, but
the occasional flashes of lightning that dazzled the eyes one moment
only rendered the darkness more intense the next.
It must have been about four bells in the first watch, and those in the
saloon were trying to obtain a kind of scrambling supper. Old Pen had
come aft, and Vike was here too. Both knew that to-night there was
danger on the deep.
Suddenly there came a shout from those on deck, this was followed by a
crashing sound like the splintering of masts, a loud grating noise, and
then all motion ceased.
"We are doomed, boys, but we must still continue to have faith in our
heavenly Father."
"Do you think, sir," faltered Frank, "that--that we are wrecked?"
"We are driven on shore, lad, but where, it is impossible to say."
The ship was already battened down, so that, although the seas were
making a clean breach over her, there was no immediate danger.
The mate found his way below.
His oil-skins were glittering with water, and his red face dripping too.
He shook the drops from his brown beard and sat down, with a strange
uneasy kind of smile on his face.
"Not much to be done, is there, Morgan?"
"Nothing," replied the mate. "Seems to me we've just got to sit here
and wait for death."
"Is that the view you take?"
A terrible wave at that moment dashed over the vessel, shaking her from
stern to stem.
"Hark, sir! Isn't that the view you take?"
"While there is life there is hope, my friend."
The mate laughed half scornfully.
"There won't be much of either half an hour after this," he said
solemnly.
The captain now essayed to go on deck. He ventured forward only a step
or two. To have come farther would have been sheer madness.
Morgan was right. They had only to wait for death.
Wait and pray, however.
Ah, yes! for God the Lord is everywhere, on sea as well as on the dry
land, and prayer is never denied us.
Morgan's half-hour was past, and another to that; still the sturdy ship
gave no signs of breaking up.
On the contrary, the wind had gone down considerably, and the seas as
well.
"Mate," said Talbot.
"Yes, sir."
"Are the men below?"
"Three, I think, were washed away; the rest are all in the galley or
half-deck."
"It is very dreadful. But we have hope now. An hour ago I should not
have ventured to serve out grog, lest in despair some might have broken
into the spirit-hold. Come with me now, mate, and we will splice the
main-brace. Come, steward, you know what is wanted."
It was very difficult even yet to get forward, so covered was the deck
with wreckage. But they succeeded at last.
Sad, indeed, was the sight that dawn revealed.
The mizzen-mast alone was left standing, the fore and main having gone
by the board.
The ship herself had been carried by a huge tidal wave, right in between
two high volcanic-looking rocks, and there so jammed that at low tide it
was perfectly possible to walk under keel.
Jibboom and bowsprit were also smashed, and a single glance at the ship
would have told even a landsman that she was doomed.
Nor would it be safe even to remain on board, for at any time she might
slide backwards and lie on the shingle beneath, broadside up.
Talbot was no pessimist.
"Thank God, boys," he said, "that our lives have been spared."
"Amen!" was said by all around, and that, too, with both reverence and
fervour.
But the wind had fallen almost to a dead calm, and there was not a sound
to be heard except the rustle of the shingle as it was hurled upon the
beach by each advancing wavelet, and sucked back by the next.
"Now, men," cried the captain, "we'll go to breakfast at once, and then
make all speed to land the cargo and stores. This island is evidently
uninhabited, and it may be many a long day, indeed, before we are
discovered and able to get away."
On the shore side, and between the rocks, was a green bank, and into
this the shattered bowsprit had been thrust. So that to make a rough
bridge from the fo'c's'le to the shore was a very simple matter.
There were still thirty men left as crew all told of the unfortunate
_Flora_, not to mention Johnnie Shingles, Viking, and Old Pen, neither
of whose names were borne on the ship's books.
But with such hearty good-will did the men work that before sunset, not
only had they erected a huge marquee with spare spars, the wreck of the
masts and sails, but had got a very large quantity of the most valuable
stores on shore.
It was a strange island indeed, and evidently of volcanic origin. Not
very large, probably not six miles in circumference altogether. It was
well wooded, though the trees were by no means high, and in the centre
was a beautiful circular lake, in which a lovely little island-grove
seemed to float or to hang.
Work was resumed next day, and the men now set themselves to build two
strong, substantial, living huts, a big and a smaller, with a rough but
dry shed for the stores and cargo, not forgetting the balloon and the
varied apparatus for inflating it.
It took them a whole week and a day to get everything snug and
comfortable; and all this time it continued calm.
But never a boat nor dhow was to be seen from the outlook. The last was
simply a spare spar of considerable height, with rigging thereto. It
was, moreover, a flagstaff by day and a beacon by night. But I may
state at once that this uninhabited isle being fully two hundred miles
from the mainland shore, and quite out of the way of any kind of
commerce, licit or illicit, there was but small chance of any signal
being seen.
What made the situation more desperate was the fact that not a boat had
been left, all were smashed and washed away; three having gone before
the vessel struck.
But the greatest misfortune of all was the almost complete destruction
of the donkey-engine, so that it would be impossible to distil water.
They managed to save enough, however, to last for fully three weeks with
economy, and as Talbot said, there was no saying what might not occur
before then.
This water was carefully stored in casks, placed in sheltered corners,
and raised on stones to defend them against the ravages of the terrible
white ant.
A more terrible scourge than these _Termitidae_ constitute, it would be
difficult to conceive. What makes it more serious, is that they work
completely concealed--in galleries, that is. And so thin is the outer
shell of wood which they leave that their presence is not suspected
until the whole of some structure--and this may be of any size, from a
wine-box to a building,--suddenly gives way.
These white ants once, to my knowledge, attacked a library of books
which had not been used for some time. They were evidently fonder of
reading than the townspeople. We talk of devouring a favourite author.
Well, in the case in point these terrible _Termitidae_ devoured their
authors in a far more literal sense, and fairly ate them up, but they
left the bindings all intact, so that when a volume was pulled out one
day it turned Dead Sea fruit, and fell to dust in the librarian's hands.
Then, and not till then, was the whole extent of the mischief
discovered.
Our little shipwrecked colony now settled down to wait and watch.
There was but little else to do.
They lived in hope, however, and day after day many a straining eye was
turned seawards, to seek for the sail that never appeared, and the last
thing at night which Talbot or the boys did was to walk around the edges
of the cliffs, in the expectation of seeing some mast-head light.
A fire was ready at a moment's notice to light as a signal, but alas! it
was not required.
They had yet to find out, however, what these ants were capable of.
It was the water they dreaded most to lose. Without this they must soon
sink and perish.
Just one fearful accident I must here record, though I have no intention
to pile up horrors.
But in the expectation of rain one night a huge piece of waterproof
canvas was spread, or rather hung, by the four corners between as many
trees, hammock fashion.
The rain did come.
Water from the casks was at this time served out only in small
quantities, so that the poor mariners were already suffering greatly
from thirst. They were overjoyed, therefore, to find their great
hammock almost full next morning.
They drank greedily of the apparently pure liquid, although some averred
that it tasted bitter.
Alas! it was poisoned!
For in about half an hour afterwards the men were suffering the most
excruciating agony.
Luckily, none of the officers had partaken of this water, which must
have been poisoned by the copper or some other chemical, with which the
canvas had been treated, to render it waterproof.
Before night, although Talbot gave everyone emetics of strong mustard
and water, treating them afterwards with wine and spirits, no fewer than
four poor fellows were dead. The others got better, but continued weak
and ill for weeks.
CHAPTER II.--A WEARY TIME.
Yes, it was indeed a weary time that succeeded the alarming news brought
one morning to Captain Talbot. For when the steward went to draw water
from a cask, he found the wooden tap leaking, and naturally endeavoured
to send it home a little. At the very moment he did so the whole
collapsed, and the remains of the ant-eaten staves floated away in dust
or little else.
All the other casks were found to be in the same condition, so that the
mariners had nothing now to fall back upon except a kind of artificial
rain-water well, which they had found on the surface of a rock, and this
was most carefully covered over to prevent its evaporation by the rays
of the sun.
What a terrible outlook! And no signs were there of further rain, not
even the tiniest cloud.
Well might they pray for rain now as did the prophet of old, for if it
fell not soon, sad indeed must be the fate of all.
The captain and first mate now held a consultation, and that night it
was decided that they should endeavour to build a boat of some kind, and
therein sail for the distant mainland.
Pity it was they had not thought of this sooner, for in two hours after
the decision had been arrived at, another circular storm arose. Such
storms in the Indian Ocean are not infrequent, and terrible they are
while they rage.
Rain fell at first and at the latter part of it, otherwise it was a
burning hot wind, that caused one to choke and gasp for breath.
Nostrils and lips became dry, the mouth parched, and the eyes were like
coals of fire beneath their lids.
On this occasion the sea rose higher than it had done before.
A huge ocean bore, that could be seen even in the uncertain light of the
stars, came roaring on towards the rocks, and the spray dashed high over
the camp.
Next morning not a timber of the unfortunate _Flora M'Vayne_ was to be
seen. She had been sucked backwards with that great tidal wave, and was
engulfed in the deeper water farther out.
As ill-luck would have it, most of the carpenter's tools had been left
on board, for until the storm came on--when they had to rush on shore
for dear life's sake--the men had been busy cutting out pieces of plank
with which to fashion a boat.
There was not the slightest chance of building such a thing now, and the
water grew scarcer and scarcer.
A raft was then thought of, but in the weakened condition of the men for
want of water it would take a long time to build.
"There passed a weary time. Each throat
Was parched, and glazed each eye.
A weary time! A weary time!
How glazed each weary eye!"
Once more fell rain. Once more the little rocky tank, which was always
left exposed at night, was filled, and once again the men's eyes
brightened.
During the gale of wind that had resulted in the wreck of the _Flora
M'Vayne_, the poor monkey had been washed overboard, but old Pen was
still here, and so, too, was honest Vike.
They had suffered as much from the want of water as anyone, but to the
credit of our heroes be it told, they received their daily water ration.
Old Pen used to waltz with joy when he had taken a drink, but Vike was
less demonstrative, only he never failed to lick the hand with loving
tongue that served the water out.
But hope rose higher now. That water would last for weeks--would last,
perhaps, till water came again. Hope rose to a pitch of excitement that
no one who has never known shipwreck, or never known what it is to float
a mere hulk upon a breezeless sea, can form any conception of, when,
just as the sun leapt red and fiery above the main next morning, a
steamer was observed but a few miles away in the west. God! how the men
rushed to the cliff edge, and how wildly they waved their arms, their
coats, and shouted. Shouted and shouted until every tongue
"Seemed withered at the root;
And they could not speak, no more than if
They had been choked with soot".
But all in vain!
The ship passed on.
"They cannot have seen us! They cannot have seen us! Lower the flag to
half-mast. Light the fire; they will see the smoke."
All this was done.
All this was done in vain. There was not breeze enough to float the
flag.
The fire, too, was a failure. No smoke arose, for the flames licked it
up.
No wonder the men gazed after the retreating vessel with weary, weary
eyes.
Oh, cruel, cruel, to desert us so!
This was all anyone could say.
And now Duncan bethought him of the balloon.
Surely there was some hope left in that.
As they sat under the shade of some dwarf and straggling trees, our
three younger heroes, with Captain Talbot and Morgan, they seriously
reviewed the whole question of their situation. Not only Duncan, but
even Conal and Frank had become somewhat more earnest in their manner of
late. Their sufferings had sobered them.
"Boats, and even a raft, are denied us," said Duncan, "and ships do not
come."
"No," answered Talbot; "and yet some British cruiser, or even an Arab
dhow, is bound to come this way before very long."
"It is just that which I greatly doubt, sir," said Morgan. "We seem to
be landed at the back of the north wind, and out of the way of
everything."
"But the balloon," continued Duncan. "I and Conal--"
"And I," interrupted the Cockney boy.
"Well, and you if the balloon is strong enough."
"It would carry you all, and a horse besides," said the skipper with
just the ghost of a smile.
"Well, we should ascend until we found a wind to carry us towards the
mainland, where we could descend and find assistance."
"It is a forlorn hope, Duncan."
"Seems to me, though, that it is our last chance," said Morgan. "The
water can't last long. What if it rains no more for months. All that
could ever be found of us in that case would be our skeletons bleaching
in the sun."
"Not so pessimistic, please, Morgan. I still have hope in God. If it
be His will to help us we shall be rescued. If not, it is our duty to
submit."
Truly a brave man was Talbot.
And the merchant-service has many a thousand such, who, without doubt,
will be of infinite service to their country in our day of direst
need--when wild war comes,
"In a fostering power, while Jack puts his trust
As fortune comes--smiling he'll hail her,
Resign'd still, and manly, since what must be must;
And this is the mind of a sailor."
----
Talbot arose at last.
"I cannot go," he said, almost solemnly, after gazing for over a minute
at the blue above and the blue below, the sky without a cloud, the sea
without a ripple. "For weal or for woe, boys, I must stay with my men.
Now am I resigned. I will pray for you, lads, and so shall we all."
"But," he added, "serve out some water and a modicum of wine. God bless
our poor fellows yonder, for their conduct and discipline have been
splendid. Many men in their hopeless condition would have broken into
the spirit stores and died maudlin drunk, or murderously mad."
The men quickly came to the call of "All hands!" and just as quickly
Talbot explained the position, and told them what the three youngsters
proposed doing. The cheer that followed his words was not a lusty one,
but it was very sincere.
And now, though with no nervous haste, the work of arranging and
inflating the balloon was commenced and for some days steadily proceeded
with.
On the third day dark clouds came sweeping down, and a thunder-storm
broke over the island. What a God-send! Somewhat unusual, too, for the
time of year. Not only was the rocky tank filled with water and
rapidly-melting hail, but many hollows elsewhere, and every drop was
precious.
Compared with Andree's great Arctic balloon, the _Hope_, as Talbot's had
been named, was quite a baby, but it was strong enough for anything, and
could have supported and carried far more than they needed for weeks
together.
Long before this, Talbot had instructed his youngsters in the art of
managing a balloon, and now there was little more for them to learn on
this score.
The inflation was completed at last. The net, a very strong one, was in
its place. The car attached, and the splendid ball dragged impatiently
at her moorings, as if longing to soar away into freedom.
Food, arms, ammunition, wine, and water--everything was in its place,
everything secure, yet handy.
Then the last night came.
It was clear and starry, with a bright scimitar of a new moon in the
west.
Duncan slept but little. His mind was in a whirl of anxiety. There
were so many things to think about, and they came cropping up in his
mind all in a bunch, as it were, all demanding explanation at once.
One thing which would grieve him very much was parting with Vike.
Animals have died of grief many times and oft ere now, and somehow he
felt that he would never see his favourite dog again.
But lo! about the first news he got next morning after getting up was
that Viking was missing. He had evidently wandered away, it was
thought, and tumbled over a cliff.
When the boys went to bathe for the last time that morning they were
almost dumb with grief.
But while returning to camp they met Johnnie Shingles and Old Pen.
Both were capering with joy.
"Vike he all right, sah, foh true. Golly, I'se shaking wid joy all
ober."
"And where is he?"
"In the sky-car, sah. O ees, he dere shuah enuff."
It was true. Vike evidently knew all about it, and had taken his seat
already. Booked in advance!
He could not be coaxed out. But he took his breakfast when handed to
him, and a drop of water afterwards.
"Boys," said Talbot, "you must take him. It seems very strange, but it
also seems fate."
"Fate be it, then," said Duncan.
And indeed the poor fellow's mind was greatly relieved.
----
That very forenoon the great balloon was cast off, and with blessings
and farewells on both sides. Upward she soared into the clear blue sky,
and was soon seen by those below only as a tiny dark speck, no larger
than a lark.
CHAPTER III.--CHILDREN OF THE SKY.
I have been down in a diving-bell, and have traversed or been led
through the dark and seemingly interminable seams of a coal-mine, and
felt no very exaggerated sense of exhilaration in either situation, but
the glad free feeling one has when afloat in a balloon, and after the
first nervous shudder of trepidation has passed off, is well worth
risking life and limb to experience, and is, moreover, in my opinion, a
proof that man was made and meant for better things than grovelling on
earth like a stranded tadpole thrown out of its pond by the hands of
some idle school-boy.
It is always the unknown that strikes the greatest amount of terror into
man's soul. Therefore I claim for my young heroes the possession of an
amount of courage and pluck, that you shall seldom find in any other
hearts save those of British-born boys.
The balloon ascended with inconceivable rapidity at first, swaying just
a little from side to side, and causing the inmates to grasp the sides
of the car with some degree of nervous terror. When, however, they
found that to fall out would be the most unlikely thing that could
happen, they took heart of grace, and began to laugh and talk.
"Isn't it just too awfully lovely for anything," said Frank. "I say,
you know, Conal, I'm a sort of sorry I didn't bring my fiddle."
"It's a fine sensation," said Conal. "It must be just like going to
heaven."
"Yes"--from Duncan--"but we should have somebody to meet us when we got
on shore there. But we don't know where this aerial tour may end."
"Well, we're going high enough anyhow," said Frank. "And," he added,
"I'm not half so funky as I thought I'd be. I've often thought, mind
you, that I'd like the going up in a balloon, 'cause there is plenty of
sky-room, and nothing to knock your head against. It was the thoughts of
alighting on earth again that always had terrors for me, hitting against
poplar-trees and steeples and such, or spiked on the weather-cock of a
town-hall and left to kick. But this is glorious, and I suppose we'll
get down all straight."
Duncan held down his hand to Viking, and the honest dog licked it with
his soft tongue.
"It is so good of you to take me, master," he seemed to say. "I don't
know where in all the world you're off to, but you're here, and that's
good enough for old Vike."
"I say, Duncan," said Conal, "aren't we taking an easterly direction?"
Duncan was rated "captain of the car", so all questions were referred to
him.
"It really looks a little like it," was the reply, "unless the island
down yonder, with our dear friends on it, has broken adrift, and is
bound for the mainland."
They could talk lightly, almost joyously now, so bracing was the air,
and so delicious the sensation of floating through space.
"I say, captain," said Frank, "hadn't we better put another man to the
wheel, and tack and half tack for a time. Or suppose we lie to, eh?"
"Providence is at the wheel, Frank, but we're at the mercy of every
breeze that may blow."
They were evidently being driven out to sea, but there was no help for
it.
And so easterwards, ever easterwards, they drifted for many hours. The
island itself was now but a little dark dot on the blue, and several
other islets had come into view, and latterly, oh, joy! a steamer.
Evidently on her way to China or Japan!
Could they communicate?
In case of meeting a ship, several tin flagons had been prepared and
ballasted, with letters in them.
The balloon was drifting but slowly now, and seemed to be on the turn.
Signals were accordingly made, while Conal, with the telescope, kept the
ship's quarter-deck well under observation.
"Ha!" he cried, "they see us, and are signalling back."
Overboard now were thrown not one flask only, but three, and each would
tell the same story of the ship-wrecked mariners, dying slowly for want
of water on the lonely island far to the west. The latitude and
longitude of this was given also.
It was evident that the flasks fell near the ship, for presently they
could see a boat lowered, as if to pick them up. It soon returned to
the ship and was hauled up.
But for a long time those in the balloon waited in vain for a signal.
It came at last. A flag--bright red--was hoisted to the peak and
rapidly lowered again.
Then the ship held on its course.
"Gracious heavens!" cried Duncan excitedly, "they are leaving our poor
friends to their fate."
"I do not believe it possible," said Frank.
"No, it cannot be. See, see, they have stopped ship."
This was true. And it was evident also that a consultation was being
held on board, as to whether they should really alter their course, and
seek for the uninhabited island and perishing mariners or not.
"I know how it is," said Duncan. "It is, as usual, a question of money,
like everything else in the world. That is no doubt a mail steamer, and
the loss of time means a heavy fine, even though they might prove they
had been on an errand of mercy."
But to their infinite joy our heroes saw at last the ship's prow turned
westwards.
Night fell now, down on the sea that is. For at the great altitude
which they had attained the sun was still visible.
The very last thing they noted was that the captain of that steamer had
apparently changed his mind once more, and that the vessel was stopped.
There she lay without or breath or motion
"As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean".
"Cruel! cruel!" cried Frank.
"We must not judge," said Duncan. "Down there it is now almost dark,
and in mercy let us believe they are merely dodging to await the
moonrise.
When day returned, the brave balloonists found themselves not over the
sea any longer, but over a dense dark forest of Africa's mainland.
During the darkness a strange kind of stupor had weighed their eyelids
down, and every one had slept.
But the balloon had changed its course, and was now driving inland on
the wings of an easterly wind.
By aid of the telescope they could just perceive a long line of blue
'twixt the sky and the greenery of the woods.
But this itself soon disappeared as the balloon kept floating westwards
and away.
The last thing they had done was to throw over the car at intervals, as
they swept on, no less than six tell-tale flasks, and each had a little
white flag over it.
But now came the question--what was to be done? Would it not be better
at once to attempt a descent, and make their way eastwards through the
forests and across the streams, which they could see here and there like
silver strips among the woods and hills.
It was a question that needed some little consideration.
To alight in a forest did not seem feasible. Here, to say nothing of
the danger of such a descent, they could find no natives to help them,
and they should be exposed to the attacks of wild beasts and venomous
reptiles.
They could see mountains far ahead, and among these there would
doubtless be many an inhabited glen; so they agreed to keep on for a few
hours longer.
"Besides," said Duncan, "there is a chance of a change of wind, which
will blow us coastwards far more quickly than we could ever get on
foot."
All hands were hungry, so breakfast would be a most enjoyable pastime.
Something more than a pastime, however. They settled down to it
seriously, poor Viking standing up to receive his share.
Breakfast in a balloon--how strange it seems!
What did they have to eat? Enough and to spare, but, saving the
biscuits--a considerable percentage of which was weevils fresh and
alive--all else was tinned meat.
They made a hearty meal nevertheless, washing it down with a modicum of
wine and water.
They were now ready for further adventures, but of course had no idea
what was in store for them.
Well, the forest was soon left far behind, and, much to their
astonishment, they perceived mountains ahead of them so high that snow
lay white on their conical summits.
In an hour or two they were over a charming valley, and so low down that
they could see the black natives running about in a great state of
excitement, having evidently caught sight of the aeronauts.
"Fortune favours the brave," cried Duncan exultantly. "Here shall we
descend, and make assurance doubly sure, and the safety of our friends
certain."
With a little manipulation of the valves, a descent was made far more
easily than any one could have imagined. Anchors were let go, and soon
it was possible for all hands, including even Vike, to get out of the
car.
An innovation awaiting them which they had little expected. Here were
at least a thousand spear-armed warriors assembled, and as they came
towards them, all threw themselves on their faces, or bent themselves in
attitudes of worship.
"Here's a wind-up to a windy day," cried Frank laughing. "Why, these
chaps evidently take us for gods!"
"It would seem so," said Duncan, "but I for one don't feel quite up to
that form."
One of the savages was held aloft in a kind of sedan-chair, and was
evidently the chief or king. He was the most hideous-looking savage it
is possible to imagine; extremely corpulent, with a cruel, cut-throat
expression of face; small deep-set eyes, and cheeks covered with
parallel scars about an inch long. His hair in front hung straight down
in tiny ringlets over a retreating forehead.
One should never show fear before savages. Duncan knew this, and
walking boldly up to the huge travelling throne he saluted him in an
off-hand way, and addressed him in English.
His majesty only shook his hideous head, but pointed with his spear
towards his army.
Every one sprang up and stood erect, but silent as the grave.
"C'rambo!" said the king.
And C'rambo advanced smiling.
Very different was this tall, lithe, and supple-looking savage to any
about him. His skin was yellow instead of black. His smile was a
forbidding, sarcastic leer, and although our heroes knew nothing of
African savages, any coasting sailor could have told them this man was a
Somali.
In his right hand he carried three ugly spears, one of which was
attached by a cord to his wrist, while on his left forearm was a small
round shield--such as are worn by the tribes on the eastern coast north
of the line.
This fellow first salaamed to the chief, addressing him in a harsh and
guttural jangle of words. Then he turned haughtily towards our heroes.
"Who am you, and whe' you comes from?"
"First and foremost," replied Duncan, quite as haughtily, "who are you?
Whose country are we in, and how far from the coast are we?"
"Humph! You feels dam bold, eh? Suppose I holds up my leetle white
finger, King Slaleema's men den cut all your troats plenty much quick."
In spite of a feeling of doubt and fear that dwelt at his heart, Duncan
burst out laughing.
"Your little white finger, my friend, is as yellow as a duck's foot.
"You see this little revolver?" he added. "Your life and five more of
your beastly lot, including your pig of a king, lie in these chambers.
Have you any particular longing to be stretched? If not, civility will
pay you. Now, will you answer?"
Both Frank and Conal, following their captain's lead, had laid their
hands on their pistol-butts.
"Pay?" said the fellow. "S'pose you gift me, I do most anything. Wot
you wants foh to know?"
"We will give you gifts. What would you like?"
"English food, tools, a lifel (rifle). Money no good."
"You're modest, but we are liberal. How far are we from the coast?"
"Foh one Englishmans six week. Foh one gentleman Somali, plaps one."
"How many miles?"
"I not count, free undled, plaps. Plaps mo'. Plenty savage, plenty
folest (forest), lion, tiger, and 'gators in de ribbers. Pletty soon de
gobble up poo' little Englishmans."
"Where did you learn your English?"
"At de court ob de Sultan ob Zanzibar. But I cut de troats ob two tree
men and den fly in one canoe. I now King Slaleema's plime minister."
"And a bonnie ticket you are," said Duncan. "Now, listen; if you will
carry a letter to Lamoo and bring an answer you shall have a gun on your
return with the reply. The letter shall be for the Sultan. Are you
agreed?"
The fellow seized Duncan's hand and pressed it to his brow.
"De bargain am made," he cried. "I'se ready. All de way I run.
Carrambo hab de good legs."
"Who called you Carrambo?"
"De dam Portugee. I cut tree, four troats all de same."
The recollection caused him to laugh. But he now spat viciously on the
ground.
"De Portugee all fools. Pah!" he cried in disgust.
"Now," he added, "I ver goot man. I not cheatee you. I come back
plenty twick (quick). Bling de answer all same too. But take care."
"Care of what?"
"Ob you' dam troats. Dese savage tink you come flom 'eaben (heaven). I
tell 'em, dis quite tlue. S'pose dey not b'lieve, den dey kill and eat
you."
"Hah! Cannibals, are they? How very comforting!"
"Eberyone cannibals heah. De dog, dey tink, am de debbil. Again I say
to Slaleema, all tlue."
"Well, Carrambo, perhaps you are a much more honest fellow than you
look. And you don't look a saint."
"All beesiness, sah. You gib me one gun and plenty 'munition, den I
selve (serve) you. S'pose a Portugee say I gib you tree gun, cut all
der troats; I cut all your troats plenty much quick, and King Slaleema
he gobble you up foh tlue."
"You're an honest, faithful fellow, Carrambo," said Duncan
sarcastically.
"Beesiness, sah, beesiness," replied the prime minister. "Wot dis wo'ld
be widout beesiness, tell me dat?"
Carrambo held his head a little to one side and both open palms out in
front of him.
As, however, the question was too philosophical in its nature, Duncan
made no reply.
"'Scuse me one moment, sah."
He hurried away, and presently afterwards reappeared from behind a hut,
dragging a poor little naked girl by one hand.
"You take lifel and s'oot de chile," he said. "She foh de king's
dinner. Dis will make one good implession on dese pore ignolant
savages."
This might have been true, but Duncan nevertheless did not see his way
to become the king's executioner.
He shot a fowl, however, and at the flash and report the savages, who
had never seen white men before, and never heard the sound of a gun,
screamed wildly, and rushed off with such precipitation, that they
seemed to be all a mist of long black scraggy legs and arms.
But Carrambo's voice recalled them, and they returned awed and
terror-struck.
The dead fowl, moreover, was evidence of the terrible power possessed by
these great "children of the air".
What might they not do next?
These innocent wretches trembled to think. I call them innocent simply
because they knew not sin.
"If then," says the apostle, "knowing these things, happy are ye if ye
do them."
For knowledge brings with it responsibility, and this neglected is
accounted to us as sin.
This night our young heroes spent in the car of the balloon, and honest
Viking went on guard. But even if the savages--for savages they were of
the most demoniacal type--possessed any longing to do them to death,
fear, natural and supernatural, deterred them.
Next morning early, Carrambo, the king's prime minister, departed upon
his long and dangerous mission, taking two young warriors with him, and
promising faithfully to return in two weeks at the farthest.
"S'pose you not see me den," he added sententiously, "den I gone deaded
foh tlue."
The place seemed more lonesome now that Carrambo had gone, for,
scoundrel though he undoubtedly was, he was someone to speak to.
They now began seriously to consider their situation and prospects.
In their heart of hearts they believed that they had been the means of
sending succour to their marooned shipmates, on that lonely isle of the
ocean. Their minds were easy enough on that score, for if even the
steamer they had hailed had resumed her course without making any
attempt to find the isle and rescue the mariners, the Sultan of Lamoo,
Duncan fully understood, had always been friendly with the British, and
would immediately despatch assistance in some shape or other.
Duncan, before doing anything else, got out his instruments of
observation, and as well as could be made out, the glen in which they
were virtually imprisoned was between two and three hundred miles off
the coast, and some degrees south of the line.
He was puzzled at first as to why the place had never been discovered by
British explorers.
But there are hundreds of such tribe-lands that have never yet been
trodden by the foot of Christian men.
There was one clue to the mystery, however, and this was probably the
true one, but they did not find it out just then.
"Now," said Duncan, "for a visit of ceremony to that fat old pig of
king. And we must take him some presents, too."
Duncan had not forgotten that there were on board the _Flora_ many large
and beautiful strings of beads, which had been intended for bartering
with any natives they might meet, and he had stowed away many such in
the balloon car.
"Come, Conal, or Frank," he said, "I don't care which. But one of you
with Vike must stay by the car and stand by your guns, in case the
cupidity of these cut-throat natives gets the better of their fear."
"I'll stay," cried the Cockney boy, as pluckily as ever Englishman
spoke.
So down the hill towards the village, revolvers in their belts and
rifles cocked, marched Duncan and Conal.
They found the king sitting cross-legged outside his kraal or great
grass hut, and being assiduously fanned by his wives.
These were no beauties, but Duncan lifted his cap and salaamed to the
king first and then to them.
They seemed both pleased and tickled, and giggled inordinately, until
the king rounded on them, scowling and drawing his fore-finger across
his throat in a most significant manner.
The young Britons, as they approached his majesty, tried not to look at
the awful remains of his last night's feast, but the sickening sight
obtruded itself upon them in spite of all they could do.
Besides the beads, they had brought with them a four-pound tin of
preserved beef.
They had expected his majesty to take a little of this, but were not a
little surprised when he seized the tin and began digging out and
swallowing huge lumps of it, with a guttural ejaculation of delight
between each mouthful.
"Goo--goo--goo!" he exclaimed, as with about a yard of hideous tongue he
finished off by licking out the tin.
"Nothing more horrible have I ever seen!" said Duncan.
"That is true," said Conal.
The king threw down the empty tin--he couldn't swallow that--smiled,
nodded, and pointed towards the clouds.
"Goo--goo--goo--" he cried interrogatively.
Duncan nodded and smiled in turn, although he had wished the brute had
choked himself.
But the horror of the brothers is not to be described when, at a call
from the king, accompanied by a string of words that consisted mostly of
vowels, two slaves came forward and offered them the roasted forearms of
a child--no doubt those of the girl which Carrambo had asked them to
shoot the day before.
They turned away, and shook their heads, but fearing to give offence,
immediately presented his majesty with a string of beautiful beads.
His delight was childish-like and unbounded, and he immediately called
for his sedan-chair of bamboo cane, and was trotted through the village
of huts that his subjects might admire him.
That same forenoon Duncan, accompanied only by Viking, went on a voyage
of discovery as he called it. He wanted to find out the lay of the land.
Two natives, impelled by curiosity, followed him, and when he beckoned
to them and gave each a bead, they readily accompanied him as escort.
Vike kept aloof.
He didn't like the looks of these savages.
But after climbing a conical hill, Duncan found out the true reason for
the isolation of these savages. Their country was at least a thousand
feet above the level of the land. And this last, except on one side
where the mountains hid their snow-capped heads in the clouds,
everywhere were dark and seemingly impenetrable forests.
CHAPTER IV.--TREASURE-HUNTERS. THE FOREST.
The exact topography of Cannibal Glen, as the boys had named this
blood-reeking territory, was, however, not the only discovery made
to-day.
The other was singular in the extreme. It was nothing less than that of
a ruined fort, at no great distance from the place where the balloon was
anchored, but high up on the side of a hill and surrounded by a clump of
trees.
The fort was built of stone, and still of considerable strength, and so
constructed that it could be defended, if occasion demanded, by two
resolute young men against four score savages.
Duncan thought it somewhat strange, that there was no footpath leading
towards it, and that it seemed to be avoided by the natives.
They found out afterwards that the place had been the scene of a cruel
massacre of white men--Portuguese without a doubt--and that it was now
supposed to be the abode of evil spirits.
All the better for our young adventurers. And they made up their minds
to take possession of the old fort the very next day.
That afternoon, however, they removed everything from the car of the
balloon, and camped just a little way therefrom.
They had lit a fire really more for the sake of light than heat, and
for, many hours after the sun's last glow tipped the snowy summits of
the mountains with pink and blue, and the stars had come out, they sat
here talking of home. But not of home only, but of their future
prospects.
"From several strange cavities I have observed in my rambles to-day,"
said Duncan, "I have come to the conclusion that the white men who built
that fort were also miners. Everything points to this fact, and also,
alas! to that of their murderous extermination by fire and by the spears
of these fiendish savages."
"Yes, Conal, it may have been many long years ago, centuries perhaps,
but who can say what discoveries we may not make next. There may be
buried treasure!"
Both Conal and Frank opened their eyes wider now.
"What!" cried Frank, "you think--"
"I don't think, Frank, my boy, I am reasoning from analogy, as it were.
First and foremost, it is not for nought the glaud whistles."
"I don't hitch on," said the Cockney boy.
"The glaud," said Conal by way of explanation, "is a wild Scottish hawk,
that always whistles aloud before darting on his prey."
"The glaud in this case," said Duncan, "is the Portuguese, who never go
into any savage country except for the sake of treasure or plunder.
"Secondly," he continued, "if the band were all massacred, they
doubtless had hidden their dust, and it is evidently there still.
Thirdly, these cannibal outcasts care nothing for gold, and would at any
time give a large and valuable diamond for a coloured bead."
"I do declare," cried Frank, "I sha'n't sleep a wink to-night for
thinking of all this. Duncan, you are clever!"
"Have you only just found that out?" said Conal, laughing. Conal was
proud of his brother.
"And now," said Duncan, "shall we, after a few days of exploration, get
into the balloon once more, and try to find our way to the sea-shore."
"Before I could answer that question myself," he added, "I would like to
think it all out, and so I move that we curl up."
Wrapped in their warm rugs--for, at this elevation, though in
mid-Africa, a rug is almost a necessity at night--the boys were soon
asleep beside the fire, and no one was left on guard except dear old
Vike.
He slept with one eye open, or one ear at all events, and was likely to
give a good account of any savage who might come prowling around the
camp.
But, by way of making assurance doubly sure, the adventurers slept with
loaded revolvers close beside them.
They slept heavily.
And that, too, despite the roaring of lions far down in the plains
below, and the unearthly shrieks of goodness knows what, that came, ever
and again, from the dark depths of the forest.
The sun was just rising over the distant green and hazy horizon when
Duncan sat up.
He rubbed his eyes, and gazed around him almost wildly.
"Conal, Frank," he cried them, "awake! awake! Where is the balloon?"
Had there been any echo it might well have answered "Where?"
The balloon was gone!
The explanation was not difficult. For, relieved of its load, it had
quietly slipped its moorings during the darkness and gone on a voyage on
its own account, goodness only knows where. And our heroes would never
see it more.
To say that they were not deeply grieved would be far short of the
truth. The loss seemed to cut them off entirely from the outer world.
But their hearts were young and buoyant, and so they did not mourn long.
After breakfast, indeed Duncan, who was the recognized leader, laughed
lightly, saying as he did so:
"Come, you fellows, don't look so blue. Perhaps the loss of the balloon
is a blessing in disguise."
"I don't quite see it," said Frank.
"No, you don't see the balloon. You've looked your very last on that;
but listen to logic: We might have journeyed away in that balloon and
been carried into regions from which we never could have got free
again."
"True enough!" said Conal.
Indeed everything his brother said was right in Conal's eyes.
"Well," said Frank after a pause, "I'm not going to bother about it.
The Pope was correct in saying, 'What is, is right.'"
"It wasn't the Pope, Frank, but Pope the poet."
"Ah, well, it doesn't matter; only I had such grand dreams last night."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, indeed. I was wandering through the diamond mines of Golconda,
with Aladdin's lamp in one hand and a horse's nose-bag in the other.
And I filled that nose-bag too, you bet."
"Well, Aladdin, or not Aladdin, I move now that we move up the hillside
and take formal possession of the Portuguese old fort."
"I second the moving motion," said Conal.
So Duncan and Conal became the carriers; Frank, with Vike, remaining
below on guard until everything was taken up.
It took them the whole of that day, and the next as well, to settle down
in their new quarters, and to make everything snug and comfortable.
To their great delight, at the foot of a rock not far off they found a
small well with a spring of the coldest water, bubbling up through the
rocks.
It was partly no doubt on account of this very well, that the former
inhabitants of the fort had chosen this spot as their habitat.
One room, and one only, of the ruin was roofed, and this they commenced
to overhaul and thoroughly clear and clean.
They shuddered somewhat, however, when they came across human bones, and
these had been charred by fire, and so told a terrible tale.
But Duncan and his comrades were not to be daunted, and determined to
make this their living-room, for no matter how hard the rain might fall,
their stores would be dry and safe.
Besides the door, there was one opening which had been a window.
It was at first proposed to barricade it up, but this would have
prevented ventilation, and shown fear also.
"I have it!" cried Frank.
"Well?"
"Erect two skulls. There they are all ready to hand."
This was done.
The terrible relics were fastened to short poles, and one was stuck at
each side of the window outside.
----
For a time, at all events, the boys might well consider themselves safe,
for superstition is far more deep and rife in heathen lands than it is
in Christian, and that is saying a good deal.
"I do think all this is rather jolly than otherwise," said Frank a
morning or two after they had got nicely settled, as he termed it, "and
I wouldn't mind living here for some time."
"I'm afraid we'll have to, Frank," said Duncan, laughing.
"Bar the vicinity of that ugly king, and his crowd," Conal put in.
"But you must admit, captain, that there is a spice of romance in this
mode of life, and I wouldn't mind much what happened to me, if there was
a ground-work of romance in it."
Frank was reminded of these remarks by his fellows some time after this,
and after a thrilling adventure, in which he happened to be
first-person-singular.
"But I say," he added, "what shall we call ourselves? Crusoes? Eh?"
"I think," said Conal, "that a Crusoe must live on an island."
"Hermits, then."
"No. You can't have a plurality of hermit. A hermit is a hermit, and
he is all by himself. If a lot of people come and live in the same
place he is a hermit no longer."
"Solitaires," suggested Duncan.
Conal laughed aloud.
"Why," he cried, "you stupid old Duncan, a solitaire is a sleeve-link or
collar-stud or something."
"Foresters, then."
"Fiddlesticks! The forest is miles away."
"Treasure-hunters?"
"That's better. And we'd best leave it at that."
"Well, having made everything snug, suppose we go and see the fat king
again."
"Good! and then go and fish. There is a nice little stream down here,
and we might even have a peep into the forest."
"Happy thought!" said Frank.
Frank's mind, by the way, was partially built upon happy thoughts, and
there was always one or two ready to bob up on the surface.
"What now, Frank?"
"We've lots of wine, and we won't drink it. Suppose we take King Pig a
bottle."
They did so, and also some more beads.
They marched--that is, Frank and Duncan, Conal being left at home to
keep house--straight to the king's kraal.
They sang as they entered the village, seeming to know by instinct what
I had to learn from experience, that a happy, independent, and careless
manner goes a long way to impress savages with one's superiority.
The cannibal king was just getting up. He had eaten too much the night
before, and overslept himself. But he seemed glad to see our heroes,
smiled, and poked his black, fat fingers funnily towards them.
His hut was a big one, but something in it immediately caught Frank's
eye. It was a huge, black, and horribly ugly doll. The king's god,
without a doubt. It was as black as the ace of clubs, with red lips and
white tusks. The eyes seemed to glare at the intruders, but the
intruders didn't mind.
Frank drew nearer to it, for something in this wooden god's head shone
with a light that was perfectly dazzling. Anyone could have seen it was
a diamond of the purest water.
How could he secure it? that was the question. Why, that stone was a
fortune in itself. Robbing a cannibal king might not be much of a
crime, but the treasure-hunters recoiled from the idea.
Barter! Ha! that indeed. Finance is a fine thing!