A DISTRESS CALL GOES TO THE PEARL
I do not know how long I was unconscious, but when I opened my eyes I
could see the bright stars, and I made out two black heads of negroes,
who bore me in some kind of a litter to which I was bound, wrists and
ankles.
I could hear the voices of others ahead, so I knew that there were more
in the party. My head felt big, and a dizziness, and a sore spot,
reminded me of the whack I'd got. We soon came to a stand, and there
sounded a call. A turn of my litter gave me a view of a structure
towering near by. Something in the contour was familiar. It was the
great palace we were now come to.
I have to make mention of a matter of importance. It was not little
Marie Cambon we had saved from the voodoos. This I saw when I grabbed
the little one from the ground. It was a young mulatto. So little Marie,
then, must still be immured in this old ruin. Perhaps, after all, I
should find a way to save her and myself. Some unreasoning blind faith
seemed to hold me up, in spite of my desperate situation.
My litter was soon in motion again, and we passed through some kind of
portal. A lantern illumined the way, and we went up a broad stairway. In
the dim light I made out richly carved pillars; mahogany shone red in
the wood work, if I were not dreaming, and marble figures looked down on
me.
Again we came to a stand, this time in a great hall, and my litter was
let down to the floor. One came out and stood over me. It was the voodoo
great-priest--the _papaloi_--as I could see by the red bandanna he still
wore on his head, and his hand bound in a blood-stained rag. I noted
this black's features were as regular as a white man's; and now there
was a sneering smile on them.
"So you think you very wise and can defy the Great Power," he said. He
turned and spoke something to an attendant, who stooped and tore open my
shirt, while another held the lantern. It was to lay bare my skin where
it was unstained and still white.
"Humph!" grunted the _papaloi_, "so I thought. It is one of the white
boys."
"You came from Jamaica, in the schooner," he addressed me. "You make
plenty good blood for the drink--and plenty good meat for the feast."
This last with a malicious grin.
I could perceive that here was one, this voodoo priest, who was in the
confidence of Duran. It was doubtless to him Duran delivered the
children procured for sacrifice. And so here must be the source of the
vast wealth of that white fiend of tinged blood. Something spurred me to
defiant speech.
"You can tell Duran, alias Mordaunt," I began, "that I have had my
fortune read, and that I would not exchange my fate for his at any
price."
He stared for a moment speechless. Then he said something to the two
litter bearers, who loosed the ropes that held me to the litter; then
they stood me on my feet, and one holding either arm, led me through a
doorway, the _papaloi_ following, attended by another black with the
lantern. It was many steps we went down the bare passage; a turn, and we
stood before a door. A heavy bolt was drawn, and the door opened.
"Very soon you die," spoke the _papaloi_, as I was thrust in.
I heard the bolt slide into place with a click, and I stood in darkness.
I felt in my pocket for my flash lamp. It was gone. I put my feet
forward cautiously, step by step, my hand on the wall; and moved around
my dungeon till I came to the door again. I became used to the dark, got
my bearings, and paced the damp floor, side to side and end to end. It
was four paces one way, eight the other. As I moved about, suddenly I
caught in my eye a few stars peeking in on me. There was a slit in the
wall high up. By reason of the thickness of the wall the view out was
had only when standing directly in line with that narrow porthole.
The cell was barren, there was not even a box for a seat. A half hour
was hardly gone, when I heard the click of the bolt again. This time it
was food that was pushed in, on a wooden tray. Recalling those stories
of the poisoned food given by the voodoos to their victims, I denied
myself, even of the drink. In that hot, airless hole, what would I have
not given for a draught of pure water!
I got the food off the tray and used it to sit on.
* * * * *
When I thrust the little one into Robert's arms, he and Carlos had run
for it, as I directed. They got far enough into the jungle for safe
hiding, and then Carlos went back to lead me there. I had already got
that whack on the head, and the thing Carlos saw was the crew of blacks
securing their prisoner.
It was then Robert decided to call our friends from the _Pearl_. So the
two, carrying the little rescued mulatto, turn about, hurried back
toward home. When they came to the place where we had cooked our meal,
Robert made his signal fire. He made it big, for it was fifteen miles to
the _Pearl's_ anchorage. The two plaited a big screen of leaves and
grasses. Again and again he spelled out in flashes the following:
_Come ask for Brill._
To make out any answering signal at so great a distance, was a thing not
to be expected, where a mere lantern was to be used. But he knew they
would be on the lookout, and could not miss so great a flare.
Daylight had come before the two arrived at the Brill hut. Melie took
the little one in charge; and it may here be said that the yellow tot
was finally restored to the rejoicing parents.
RAY'S NARRATIVE
When Wayne and Robert had got out of sight, as they started on the trail
of that Duran fellow, right away Grant Norris began to fuss.
"I don't think those boys ought to be allowed to go after those
cannibals alone," he said. "Suppose those black cusses get wind of them
and put up a fight. And they haven't anything but those dinky little
rifles!"
"Meaning," I told him, "that they ought to have an old campaigner to
protect them, and that old campaigner's name is Grant Norris."
"Oh, go 'long! you red-headed wag, you," he shot back at me.
"'Fess up now," I said. "You're just itching for excitement. But never
fear, Wayne will send for you before the fighting begins--he knows you.
In the meantime, you know Wayne and Robert well enough; there won't
anyone get much the best of them."
When we had rowed back to the _Pearl_, things were got ready for a move
to a new anchorage--nearer to the place where we had landed Wayne and
Robert. Captain Marat said we must avoid having the lights of the town
between us and any signal from Wayne.
Grant Norris was watching the hills back inland while the sun was still
holding its fire on the tops of the mountains.
"Say," I asked him, "you don't expect to see fire signals in broad
daylight, do you?"
"Daylight!" he sniffed--"It'll be night before you can turn round
twice."
And sure enough, while we were talking the sun was off the peaks, and
the lower hills were black enough to show a fire.
I hadn't any more than got ready the big lantern with the strong
reflector, than Wayne's signal began to flash, eight or ten miles back
in the hills. I answered. And then came the message: "Good so far."
"I guess they find out sometheeng," said Captain Marat.
"It's good to know they're already making progress," observed Julian.
"Next," said Norris, "they'll be signalling--'Come on, the trail is
hot.'" And he stayed on deck till long after midnight.
The next day dragged for all of us, waiting for night. Nothing was
right. Even Rufe's noon meal was no success.
"Say, you-all is jest de cantankerest bunch!" said Rufe. "Dem 'are
biscuits is jest de kin' you-all been a braggin' on; an' dat fish, an'
de puddin'--W'at's wrong wid dem, ah likes to know?"
But no one had a word on that.
And when the supper went the same way, Rufe put his foot down, said he
wouldn't cook another meal till we got the voodoo out of our systems.
"Dat w'at it is, hit's de voodoo w'at's got into you-all's stummicks,"
he declared. "Dey ain't no use o' my cookin' no more till you is busted
wid it."
That hot lazy sun finally dipped down west, and from then on, every
candle or firefly on shore had us on the jump. Grant Norris was the
worst of the bunch. At ten o'clock he broke loose.
"Those young skunks!" he said. "Won't I give them a piece of my mind!
They might give us a word. No sense in keeping mum like this."
At midnight all but Norris gave it up and turned in. He said he wouldn't
trust the watch, and anyway there wasn't any sleep in him.
I hadn't any more than got two winks of my first beauty sleep, than
something had me by the scruff, and bounced me out of my bunk onto the
floor. It was worse than the nightmare.
I was kneading the cobwebs of fairyland out of my eyes, and I heard
Norris saying:
"Pile up on deck you sleepy-head! Wayne's talking to you."
I "piled up" on deck; and there, way back in the hills, ever so far
away, I saw the flashing of a beacon light. A long flash, a short one,
another long, a short. That's C. Three long ones--O. And so on. "Come
ask for Brill. Come ask for Brill," the message went.
Norris brought the lamp with the strong reflector, and I flashed back an
answer. But they evidently didn't see our smaller light, for they
continued with their--"Come, ask for Brill. Come ask for Brill."
Now I can't explain just how, but I knew from the way the flashes were
given that it wasn't Wayne, but Robert, who was doing the signalling.
Then they were not together up there, for Wayne always did that job.
I told Norris the message, and he began to poke everybody else up. He
went banging at Rufe, too, and there was considerable excitement all
round.
"Oh, yes, sah, yes, sah, Mistah Norris," said Rufe "dat coffee 'll be
a'bilin' in jes' a minute. Glory be to goodness! dis heah voodoo
carryin's on is wus dan gittin' religion at a shoutin' Methodis' camp
meetin'."
I watched the flashes up in the hills till finally they quit; but there
was never a word but just those four: "Come, ask for Brill."
Our packs were already made up; it remained only for Rufe to put the
finishing touches to the grub we were going to take. Captain Marat and
Grant Norris had their high powered rifles, the hand ax was more than I
needed, for my legs were nimble. Julian got out his handsome shot-gun,
and a dozen shells Rufe had loaded with buck-shot.
"Jes' two of dem 'ar buck-shot shells in my ol' gun and dat's all I
needs," Rufe said. "Dey ain't nobody guine to come nigh dis heah
schooner 'less'n I says de word."
We pulled the small boat high on' the beach, near the place where we had
parted with Wayne and Robert, and without preliminaries we started off
by the road. It was fearfully dark, but the trail was the path of least
resistance, so we couldn't get lost. Two hours after the start daylight
busted through the trees. In another hour or so we butted into a
village. And the first pickaninny we met told us the way to "Brills," on
the upper side of the village.
A black man, and a black woman, and a black boy, were at the door of the
Brill mansion.
"We're looking for two white boys," announced Norris.
"Dey ain't no white boys 'round heah," said that black boy. And say!
that voice had a familiar twang to it.
"Say, Robert," I spit out, "your face goes all right, but you'll have to
smear the black better on that voice of yours, if you want to fool this
kid."
We were all inside now; and it didn't take Robert long to tell his
story.
"And so you are sure they've got Wayne in that old ruin?" said Norris,
addressing this black man, Carlos Brill.
"Yes, I think ver' sure," said the man. "I see they go that way with
him."
"Well, Captain Marat," began Norris, "I say storm the place at once."
"Yes," assented Captain Marat, "we have to do something."
"But we'll have to go slow," Robert said. "That place must be lousy with
those cannibals; and no one knows how many guns they'll have."
Well, Norris was willing to go slow, if he could only go soon. And we
were not long getting started.
That black fellow, Carlos Brill, led the way, and that black fellow,
Robert Murtry, with him. Julian and I were rear guard. And they gave me
Wayne's rifle to carry.
It wasn't long till we got out of the woods into an open spot; and then
they showed us what they'd figured out was Wayne's prison. It was way
over on the other side of a ravine; and say! it was the queerest
looking, half tumble-down old palace!
We went down into the ravine; and on the other side Carlos Brill took us
out of the path--afraid of an ambush, or something--and we began to slip
and stumble among the roots, and brush, and snaky-looking lianas that
hung between the trees. Why the place wasn't full of monkeys I don't
know. There wasn't any use of anyone telling us to go slow, this wasn't
any fast track.
When we stopped, to let our breaths catch up with us, Carlos told us we
hadn't much farther to go. But he wouldn't be able to get us nearer to
the palace under shelter of the forest than about four hundred yards.
"Don't let that worry you any," said Norris. "Captain Marat or I, either
one, won't ask anything better, if we can draw them out."
"Yes," agreed Captain Marat, "four honderd yard' do ver' well."
I'd seen them both shoot, and I agreed with that. And they had belts and
pockets full of ammunition.
Well, we finally got to the place, with that big old half ruin on the
opposite side of the clearing. Norris picked a tree, with big branches
near the ground. Captain Marat took up a position seventy-five or a
hundred yards to the left. Those two big-gun men and Carlos had decided
on their plan of campaign, and the rest of us got behind a good screen
and awaited developments.
Jean Marat banged away first, sending a ball through an opening in the
second story of that old palace. All waited to see some attention paid
to it over there. We calculated it ought to start some curiosity at
least--that is, if there really was anybody about the shebang. I began
to have my doubts; it looked dead as a tomb.
But we didn't have to wait more than about a minute. I saw a black scamp
scamper across the open space with a gun in his hand, going from the
woods we were in right for that palace. I pointed him out to Norris, who
let fly at him with a bullet just as he disappeared round a bush.
Robert said it was most likely a sentry, stationed on that path.
Then Captain Marat's rifle went off again. Robert ran over, and brought
back news that Marat had toppled over a black, who was running for the
palace from that side.
The next shot fired came from the palace. I saw the smoke up at the
second story. Norris banged away--said he saw a black head peep round a
piece of stone wall. Two more shots came from the palace, they tore
loose a twig or two over our heads.
Then Captain Marat shot twice. It was a minute before the palace
artillery opened up again. They must have fired ten shots--they came
faster than I could count them. Grant Norris was happy. He up with his
rifle, and at his shot I heard a yell over at the palace. Jean Marat got
another one, too, Robert came to tell me.
And now Robert got hold of me and dragged me along with him round about
through the woods. It was some time before I could hold him up long
enough to get it out of him what it was all about. He meant we two
should have a little of the kind of sport Marat and Norris were
revelling in. There was a patch of trees off to the right--south of the
old palace; and it was there we finally won round to. We climbed high in
a tree, and got us to where we had a fine view behind that broken wall
the blacks were using for a breastworks. There wasn't less than a dozen
of those voodoo cannibals there, in plain view of our perch, and we
weren't three hundred yards from them.
"Now let's give it to them fast," said Robert, and he began to work the
slide handle of his little rifle. I followed suit with Wayne's gun.
There wasn't a sound of our firing, of course, on account of the
silencers. So the stings those fellows got on the flank began to puzzle
them. There was one black who gave me a good target. I wasn't much of a
shot, but after a few pulls on my trigger, I saw that fellow put his
hand in a place, and in a way that convinced me that he would be sitting
on a sore spot for a day or two anyway. Those blacks quit firing and got
to discussing some question or other, and some of them slunk away.
And just about then I heard something familiar, back in the forest. It
was the call of the _Whip-poor-will_; and I didn't need anyone to tell
me what bird it came from; there was only one particular bird who could
be whistling that call in broad daylight.
"There's Wayne!" said Robert. And he almost knocked me off my limb, with
his hurry to get to the ground.
And then as we hurried over to the others, we answered Wayne's call; and
in just a little, he was among us.
And here's where Wayne takes up the story again.