ANOTHER CAPTURE
"We are in for it now, Dave!"
"Right you are, Bob. What shall we do, fight?"
"It would be useless, for they outnumber us ten to one."
And so speaking, Bob lowered the rifle once more.
It was well he did so, otherwise several arrows would have been sent
whizzing through his body.
In a few seconds the natives had closed in on them and taken the rifle
and other things from them.
Then they were bound with thongs and carted up the beach.
During all this time the thrashing on the beach ahead had continued,
and now the boys saw what caused it.
In some unaccountable manner a whale had become cast up by the
breakers.
He was caught in some brushwood and a fallen tree, but was doing his
best to get back into his native element.
The savages considered the whale a great find, and were doing all in
their power to make him their prisoner and kill him.
Scores of arrows had been shot into the huge, blubbery body, and the
beach was dyed crimson with the blood of the marine monster.
Yet he thrashed around lively, and one native who went too near was
knocked senseless by a blow from the whale's tail.
The fighting with arrows went on for a quarter of an hour longer, and
in the meantime a long rope, made of vines and as tough as rawhide, was
passed around the monster and made fast to a tree back of the beach.
The whale fought to the last, but gradually its struggles grew less and
less, and finally ceased altogether.
Then arose a loud shouting, and rushing in, the savages began to dig at
the body with their long knives and their war hatchets.
Some of the blubber they ate raw, much to the disgust of the prisoners,
who found themselves forced to look on.
"They are worse than Esquimaux," muttered Dave. "Ugh! it makes me sick
at the stomach."
"I wonder what they intend to do with us?"
"There is no telling. But I guess they won't eat us so long as the
whale meat lasts. They seem to relish that immensely."
The boys passed a dismal half-hour, and during that time the savages
cut up the whale and carted the meat off in huge chunks.
Then a savage who was evidently a chief came up and ordered some of his
followers to bring Dave and Bob along.
Still bound, the two chums were picked up by two savages, who seemed to
count their weight as nothing.
A journey lasting over an hour followed, straight into the interior of
the island.
At the end of the inland lake previously mentioned, the band of savages
halted.
Bob and Dave were tied fast to two trees, and then the natives
proceeded to hold a council of war.
They wished to question the lads, but not one of them could speak
English.
Presently a loud chanting was heard, and from a distance the boys saw
more savages approaching.
There were three men and half a dozen women.
There was likewise another man, but he was white, even though his face
had evidently been stained a reddish-brown color.
This man wore an attire which was comical in the extreme.
The suit consisted of a sailor's shirt and trousers, the latter cut off
at the knees, and a shiny stovepipe hat, the band filled with feathers.
"Great Scott!" burst from Dave. "Look at that scarecrow!"
As soon as the man in the silk hat appeared all of the natives began
bowing and chanting in chorus, and this they kept up until the strange
one lifted his hands and let out a peculiar yell.
Then the stranger caught sight of the boys and ran up to them.
"Be th' eyes av Saint Patrick!" he cried, in a rich Irish brogue. "Who
are ye, now; tell me that?"
"An Irishman!" ejaculated Dave, fervently. "Thank Heaven, one man can
talk United States."
"Who are you?" demanded Bob.
At this the Irishman took off the stovepipe, swung it into the air,
and made them a profound bow.
"Sure, I am Pat Stoodles, grand muck-a-muck av this wild tribe av
haythins, castaway sailor from th' bark _Emma D._, high lord av the
island, and second cousin av the royal Emperor of Turkey, ha, ha!"
And he laughed long and loud, and then shook hands.
"Are you putting this on for the natives' benefit?" questioned Bob. "If
you are, let me say they don't understand a word."
At once a frown crossed Pat Stoodles' face.
He was indeed a castaway, and a solitary life of several years had
partly turned his brain.
When the savages had found him he had acted so strangely that they
had fancied he was some inhabitant of the infernal region. At first
they had wanted nothing to do with him, but they had ended by making
him something of a chief. In their own language they called him the
fun-making high lord.
Pat Stoodles listened to their talk with interest, but shook his head
when they mentioned the _Swallow_.
"You are afther bein' mistaken about th' ship," he said. "No ship comes
here. What looks loike a ship is a vision in th' heavens, nothin'
more!" And he clenched his fists. He had looked so long for a sail when
alone that the subject had turned his brain.
"Poor chap!" said Bob, in an undertone, "I don't believe he can help us
much."
"Perhaps he can save our lives." Our hero turned to the Irishman. "What
will these natives do with us!"
"Sure an' I don't know. Maybe they'll be afther makin' princes av ye,
me bould b'ys!"
"We would like our liberty."
Pat Stoodles shrugged his shoulders.
"Ye can gain yer liberty on but wan night av the month," he said. "That
is whin th' moon is full an' they be afther havin' the feast av the
skulls."
They did not know if he was in earnest, or if the talk was that of a
crazy man.
Having spoken with them for some time, Pat Stoodles turned to the
natives and began to jabber at them.
Evidently he had learned much of their language, for they listened
attentively.
Then they brought the boys something to eat and to drink, and tried to
make them otherwise comfortable.
But they would allow neither of them his liberty.
Night came and went, and still the chums remained prisoners of the
savages.
Pat Stoodles spoke to them a long while in the morning, and at last
appeared to believe their story of a ship.
"I will be afther lookin' fer her," he said. "But it's more likely a
drame. I used to be afther dramin' loike that meself." And then he
disappeared.
The morning slipped by, and the boys were thoroughly miserable. At
first the natives left them alone, but presently they came on one after
another and pulled their noses, their ears, and their hair. One savage
doused them with dirty water from the lake, and all laughed loudly at
the trick.
Noon had come and gone, when of a sudden several shots sounded in the
distance.
The shots were followed by a loud yelling of natives, and at once those
surrounding Dave and Bob ran off to learn the cause of the conflict.
"Something is up!" cried Dave. "What can it mean?"
"I reckon we'll soon learn," answered the young engineer.
A few more shots followed, and soon after all became quiet, the
stillness lasting for over an hour.
Then a chanting was heard, and a body of savages appeared, having in
their midst two prisoners.
"Look!" cried Dave. "Captain Broadbeam and Doctor Barrell! Is it
possible!"
He was right. The newly made prisoners were the captain and the doctor,
who had been surprised while on a second hunt for the missing ones.