JACK AND THE ELEPHANTS
In the evening of that same day M. Zermatt and his wife, Mrs. Wolston
and her daughter, were all sitting together in the library after a good
day's work.
Of what should they have talked if not of those who had now been away
for three days? They felt confident of a happy issue to the expedition
into the interior of the island. The weather had been very favourable
for it.
"Where ought Mr. Wolston and the boys to be at this moment?" Mme.
Zermatt enquired.
"I think they must have reached the summit of the range," M. Zermatt
replied. "If nothing occurred to delay them, three days will have
sufficed to bring them to its foot, and the fourth would be spent in
making the ascent."
"At the cost of much fatigue, and much danger, too, perhaps," said
Hannah.
"Not danger, my dear child," M. Zermatt replied. "As for the fatigue,
your father is still in the prime of life, and my boys have endured
plenty before now."
"Ernest has not all his brothers' endurance," Hannah rejoined.
"Not quite," Mme. Zermatt answered; "and he has always preferred study
to physical exercise."
"Come, Betsy," said M. Zermatt, "you must not make out that your son is
a weakling! If he has worked with his brains, he has worked quite as
hard with his body. My belief is that this expedition will have been no
more than a walking tour. If I had not been afraid to leave you three
alone at Rock Castle, my dear, I should, in spite of my forty-seven
years, have gone on this voyage of discovery."
"Let us wait till to-morrow," said Mrs. Wolston. "Perhaps the pigeon
that Ernest took with him will come back in the morning and bring us a
letter."
"Why not this evening?" Hannah broke in. "The pigeon could find its
loft quite well at night; couldn't it, M. Zermatt?"
"Without a doubt, Hannah. The speed of those birds is so great--thirty
miles an hour, some people say--that it could travel the distance from
the mountains here in forty or fifty minutes!"
"Suppose I watch until daylight to see if it comes back?" the girl
suggested.
"Ah!" exclaimed Mme. Zermatt. "The dear child is dreadfully anxious to
have news of her father."
"And of Jack and Ernest too, Mme. Zermatt," Hannah added, kissing her.
"It is a pity that the range is not visible from the top of Rock
Castle," Mrs. Wolston remarked. "Perhaps with a telescope we might have
discovered whether the flag is flying at the summit of the peak."
"It is a pity, Mrs. Wolston," M. Zermatt agreed. "That is why, if the
pigeon does not return in the course of to-morrow morning, I intend to
saddle Lightfoot and go as far as the hermitage at Eberfurt, whence one
can see the range."
"An excellent idea," said Mme. Zermatt, "but don't let us begin to make
plans prematurely, dear, and since it is now time, let us go to dinner.
Why, perhaps the pigeon may come back this evening, before we go to
bed, and bring us a little word from Ernest!"
"Well," M. Zermatt answered, "it will not be the first time we shall
have corresponded that way. Do you remember, Betsy, a long time ago,
when the boys sent us news from Wood Grange and Prospect Hill and
Sugar-cane Grove? It was bad news, it is true--of the harm those
wretched monkeys and other destructive creatures had done; but it was
by pigeon post that we got it. I hope the messenger will bring us
better news this time."
"Here it is!" exclaimed Hannah, springing up and rushing to the window.
"Did you see it?" her mother asked.
"No, but I heard it go into the pigeon-house," the girl answered.
Her ear had caught the sound of the little trap-door shutting at the
bottom of the pigeon-house above the library.
M. Zermatt hurried out, followed by the three ladies. At the foot of
the pigeon-house he placed a ladder against the wall of rock, ran up it
quickly, and looked inside.
"It has indeed come back!" he said.
"Oh, catch it, catch it, M. Zermatt!" Hannah exclaimed, all impatience.
When she had the pigeon in her hands she kissed its little bluish head,
and she kissed it again after she had unfastened the note from its
foot. Then the bird was released and went back into its loft, where a
handful of grain was lying ready for it.
Hannah read out Ernest's letter. The few lines it contained were
satisfactory, announcing the complete success of the expedition. They
held a word of affection for every one, and Hannah had her share.
Full of the glad thought that the return would be made in the next
forty-eight hours, they all went to their rooms. The message had come;
the news was good! They gave thanks to God, and slept peacefully until
the sun rose.
This next day was fully employed with household tasks. There was an
important piece of work on hand, which could not have been postponed. A
number of salmon had entered the mouth of Jackal River, up whose course
these fish ascended every year at this season. The help of the absent
three was greatly missed. Because of their absence, the fishing was not
nearly so productive as it might have been.
During the afternoon all four left their work, crossed Family Bridge,
and took the road towards the hermitage of Eberfurt. Mr. Wolston,
Ernest, and Jack ought to have reached the defile of Cluse, and it
would only take them a couple of hours at most to cover the distance
from the farm to Rock Castle.
But the day wore on, and there was no sign of their coming, no barking
of the dogs that would certainly have scented their masters, no sound
of the gun which Jack would not have failed to fire to announce his
return.
At six o'clock dinner was ready. It was kept back for the explorers,
and, as they did not come, no one cared to sit down to table.
M. and Mme. Zermatt, Mrs. Wolston and Hannah, took a final walk half a
mile or more along the road above Jackal River. Turk and Brownie went
with them, but remained quiet and dumb, although they would certainly
have been noisy and frantic enough if the two brothers had been
anywhere near!
The four returned to Rock Castle, not quite easy in mind, but telling
one another that the delay could not last much longer. They sat down
to table in anxious mood, with ears alert for every sound outside, and
none of them had any appetite.
"Come, come, we must be reasonable," M. Zermatt said at length. "If it
took three days to get to the foot of the mountain, why should it not
take three days to get back?"
"Quite right, M. Zermatt," Hannah answered, "but does not Ernest's
letter suggest that forty-eight hours would be enough?"
"I quite agree, my child," Mme. Zermatt added. "But the dear boy is so
anxious to see us again that he has promised more than he can perform."
There was no actual reason for serious worry as yet. But that night
none of the inmates of Rock Castle enjoyed the same quiet sleep that
they had known the night before.
But what, after all, was only anxiety, became trouble and even agony
next day, the 3rd of October, when evening fell. The explorers had not
put in an appearance. Such a long delay was inexplicable where such
strong and tireless walkers were concerned. Some accident must have
befallen them. They ought not to have met with any more difficulties
when returning than they had met with when going, and they knew the
road. Could it mean that they had decided to take another road--a more
difficult, a longer one?
"No," said Hannah. "If they had been obliged to take another road,
Ernest would not have said that they would be here in forty-eight
hours."
An answer to that was difficult to find. Betsy and Mrs. Wolston began
to lose hope. Hannah could not restrain her tears, and M. Zermatt knew
not what to say to comfort her.
It was then agreed that if the missing party did not come back to Rock
Castle next day, all should go to the hermitage at Eberfurt, since they
could only come back by the defile of Cluse.
Evening came; night rolled on. There was no news at all. Nothing could
now keep at Rock Castle those who were awaiting them there, a prey to
mortal anxiety.
In the morning preparations were hurriedly made. The waggon was
harnessed, provisions were put into it, and all took their seats. The
cattle started, Brownie running ahead. After crossing Jackal River the
vehicle went along the woods and fields which bordered the road to
Eberfurt, travelling at its highest possible speed.
They had gone about two and a half miles and had reached the culvert
over the irrigation canal which ran into Swan Lake, when M. Zermatt
gave the signal to halt.
Brownie had rushed forward, barking faster and more furiously than ever.
"There they are! There they are!" cried Mrs. Wolston.
And, three hundred yards away, two men appeared, rounding a clump of
trees.
They were Mr. Wolston and Ernest.
Where was Jack? He could not be far away--a gunshot or two behind, no
doubt.
Mr. Wolston and Ernest were welcomed with shouts of joy. But as they
did not come on, everyone rushed towards them.
"Where is Jack?" Mme. Zermatt asked.
Neither Jack nor his dog Fawn was there.
"We don't know what has become of Jack," said Mr. Wolston, sadly.
And this is the story he told, a story often broken by the sobs of all
who heard it.
The descent from the summit of the peak to the foot of the range had
been made in two hours. Jack, the first to get down, shot some game on
the fringe of the pinewood. Supper was eaten in front of the cave, a
fire was left alight outside, and all three retired within. One kept
watch at the entrance while the other two slept soundly.
The night was disturbed only by the distant howling of wild beasts.
From the summit of the peak Ernest had noticed that the forest seemed
to be clearer towards the east, and, at his suggestion, the three
men went in that direction. It would mean quicker marching, and the
distance would only be lengthened by a couple of miles or so.
At eleven o'clock a halt was made. After luncheon the three came on
through the thinner forests, where it was easier walking.
About two o'clock they heard heavy trampling and a loud trumpeting
noise among the trees.
There could be no mistake whence this proceeded. A herd of elephants
was passing through the pinewood.
No, not a herd--only three appeared, two of enormous size, the parents,
and behind them a baby elephant.
It had always been Jack's most ardent wish to capture one of these
creatures and tame it. The adventurous lad determined to take advantage
of this opportunity.
Anticipating an attack, all three put themselves on the defensive, with
guns loaded and ready, feeling by no means confident about the issue of
a trial of strength with these formidable brutes.
When the elephants reached the end of the clearing, they stopped. Then,
catching sight of the three men, they swerved off to the left, without
hurrying, and plunged into the depths of the forest.
All danger was over, when Jack, carried away by his irresistible
desire, disappeared in the wake of the elephants, followed by his dog
Fawn.
"Jack! Jack!" cried Mr. Wolston.
"Come back, Jack! Come back!" cried Ernest.
The reckless young fellow either did not or would not hear.
One more glimpse of him was seen through the thicket. Then he vanished
from view.
Full of apprehension, Mr. Wolston and Ernest rushed after him, and in a
few minutes reached the clearing.
It was deserted.
Just at this moment the noise of trampling was heard again, close at
hand. But no report rang out.
So Jack either had not decided to use his gun yet, or had not been able
to.
It would be difficult, however, to overtake him, and it was impossible
to pick up his tracks here, where the ground was covered with dead
branches and dry leaves.
The tumult gradually died away in the distance. A few branches which
had been set a-swaying became still again, and once more the silence of
the forest was unbroken.
Mr. Wolston and Ernest beat the fringe of the clearing until evening,
wormed their way into the thickest brakes, and shouted to Jack.
Had the unhappy lad fallen a victim to his imprudence? Had he been
unable to avoid the elephants' charge? Was he lying motionless,
perhaps dead, in some corner of the dark forest?
No cry, no call, reached Mr. Wolston's or Ernest's ears. A few shots,
fired at intervals, remained unanswered.
At nightfall, both men, exhausted by fatigue and overwhelmed by
anxiety, sank at the foot of the tree, listening intently and trying to
catch the faintest sound. They lighted a large fire, hoping that Jack
might find his way by its light and join them again, and they did not
close their eyes until day.
Throughout these weary hours incessant howling betrayed the proximity
of wild beasts. They could not help dreading that if Jack had not been
driven to defend himself against the elephants, he still might have
fallen in a more dangerous attack by tigers, lions, or pumas.
But he could not be left to his fate. The whole of the following day
was spent in seeking his tracks through the pinewood.
It was labour wasted, Mr. Wolston and Ernest plainly saw the way the
elephants had passed, marked as it was by heavy footprints, trampled
grass, broken branches, and crushed undergrowth. But of Jack himself
there was not a sign; not even a sign that he had been wounded, not a
drop of blood, not a single mark which might have put them on his track.
There was nothing for it but to go back to Rock Castle, whence they
could start again on the search once more in better conditions.
The two traversed the portion of the pine forest which they had
crossed that same evening. They walked all night and all day, and in
the morning they arrived at the entrance to the defile of Cluse.
"My boy! My poor boy!" Mme. Zermatt murmured over and over again.
She fell into the arms of Mrs. Wolston and her daughter, who were on
their knees beside her.
M. Zermatt and Ernest, plunged in grief, could not utter a word.
"This is what we must do, without losing a minute," Mr. Wolston said at
last, resolutely.
M. Zermatt turned to him.
"What?" he asked.
"We are going back to Rock Castle, and we will start out from
there again this very day to find Jack's tracks. I have thought of
everything, my dear Zermatt, and I entreat you to do what I suggest.
"It was in the part of the forest near the sea-shore that Jack
disappeared," he went on. "So thither we must go first, and by the
shortest way. To return by the road beyond the defile of Cluse would
take too long. Let us go aboard the pinnace. The wind is in the right
quarter for rounding Cape East, and after that the breeze from the sea
will take us back along the coast. If we start this evening we shall
reach the mouth of the Montrose before daybreak. We will go on, and
we will put in where the range ends. It was in that direction Jack
disappeared as he went through the pine forest. By going there by sea
we shall gain two days."
The suggestion was agreed to without demur. There was no room for
hesitation if they wanted to take advantage of the wind which would
bring the _Elizabeth_ off Cape East in two or three tacks.
So both families got into the waggon again, and the team was driven
so fast that an hour and a half later they were at the gates of Rock
Castle.
Their first business was to get the pinnace ready to put to sea for a
voyage of several days' duration, in which Mme. Zermatt, Mrs. Wolston,
and Hannah were all to share.
In the afternoon, after food had been provided for the animals for
a week, the pinnace was about to start when it was prevented by an
unhappy mischance.
About three o'clock the wind, which had dropped, veered to the east,
and was soon blowing a full breeze. The _Elizabeth_ could have ventured
beyond Cape East, although the sea must be running very high outside.
But how was she to get so far as the cape against the violent surge
which was rolling in from the sea? It would have been extremely
difficult for her merely to leave her anchorage, and to get beyond
Shark's Island would have been impossible.
It was heart-breaking. To wait and wait, while the least delay might
mean the failure of the search! And if these adverse winds continued,
if in the course of the evening or the night the weather conditions did
not change, they would get even worse.
"Well," said Mr. Wolston, answering questions which rose in every mind,
"what we can't try by sea, we will try by land. The waggon instead of
the pinnace! Let us get it ready to go back to Eberfurt."
Preparations were at once made. If the journey was to be by waggon,
they would have to make for the south-east, in order to work round
the pine forest. The team could not have made their way through it,
at any rate, not through the portion which Mr. Wolston and Ernest had
explored. Thence they would try to reach the eastern extremity of the
forest, that is to say, the point where the _Elizabeth_ would put into
shore, if a change in the wind allowed her to lift anchor. It would
mean a delay of thirty-six hours, but that could not be helped.
Hopes for a change in the weather were disappointed. The wind blew
constantly from the north-east and got steadily stronger. By evening
huge waves were breaking on the beach at Rock Castle. The night
threatened to be a bad one, and, in face of these conditions, the plan
of the voyage had to be given up.
Mr. Wolston had all the provisions which had been put on board
transferred to the waggon. At the same time final attentions were given
to the two buffaloes and the onager, in view of a start at daybreak.
Mme. Zermatt was quite broken down, only opening her lips to murmur:
"My boy! Oh, my poor boy!"
Suddenly about eight o'clock, the two dogs, Turk and Brownie, began to
show signs of excitement. Mr. Wolston noticed how they ran in front of
the verandah across the yard. Brownie was especially restless.
Then distant barking was distinctly heard.
"It's Fawn!" cried Ernest.
Fawn--Jack's dog! Brownie and Turk recognised him too, for they
answered by barking more loudly than ever.
M. and Mme. Zermatt, with Mrs. Wolston and Hannah, rushed out of the
verandah.
Jack appeared at the gate and flung himself into his mother's arms.
"Yes, I'm all right!" he cried. "But there may be great danger before
us!"
"Danger? What danger?" M. Zermatt asked, hugging him.
"Savages," Jack answered; "savages who have landed on the island!"