THE RESCUE
Smith had taken no account of the time he had lost, first by the
storm, then by the overhauling of the engine; but, little or much, it
increased the peril of his father, and lessened his own chance of
accomplishing what he had set out to do. When an engine is always
running at full speed, time lost can only be made up by reducing the
length of stoppages, and Smith felt even this to be almost out of the
question. As soon as he was once more afloat, he thought his best plan
was to make for the coast again, and follow this without attempting to
cross the mountains.
The storm had ceased; the engine was working smoothly, and, steering
south-east, Smith in a few minutes found himself again in the
neighbourhood of Port Moresby. Again he ran down the coast, but when
about half-way between the port and the extreme south-east corner of
the island he espied a gap in the mountain chain and sped through it,
almost exactly on the ten-degree line. He had to rise to a
considerable height, and was for some moments troubled by the masses
of snow-white cumulose clouds that lay beneath him, cutting off all
view of the ground. The vast expanse of cloud lay dazzling white in
the sunlight, with peaks and crags such as he imagined Alpine summits
must show. But though it appeared to be perfectly still, every now and
then he saw small jets of mist shoot upward, like water from a geyser,
and at such times the vertical currents affected the elevation of the
aeroplane. He soon crossed this cloudy sea, however, and in a few
hours reached the north-east coast of New Guinea, and knew that
nothing but an island-spangled sea separated him from his destination.
About noon he came in sight of the mountains of Vanguna Island to the
east of New Georgia. Ysabel Island lay beyond this, running from
north-west to south-east. His intention was to round Cape Prieto, the
south-eastern extremity of it, and search the eastern shore northward.
In another hour he saw Russell Island, a green gem in the ocean
southward, and beyond this, to the south-east, the peaks of
Guadalcanar. Another twenty minutes brought him abreast of Florida
Island, and he was heading up the Indispensable Strait, with Thousand
Ships Bay and the lofty peaks at the southern end of Ysabel lying on
his left hand.
All at once Rodier descried a cloud of smoke on the horizon far up the
strait. Lifting his binocular, he shouted excitedly--
"It is a gunboat, mister. She flies the British flag."
"We've beaten her!" cried Smith.
He was divided between pleasure at his success, and sorrow that the
castaways were as yet unrelieved, for he could not doubt that the
gunboat was the same that had been dispatched from Brisbane to their
assistance. Before many minutes had elapsed he had overtaken the
vessel. Slowing down and wheeling overhead, he saw that the aeroplane
was the object of wondering interest on the crowded deck.
"Ahoy, there! Who are you?" he shouted through his megaphone.
"Gunboat _Frobisher_, Captain Warren," came the reply. "Who are you?"
"Aeroplane without a name, Lieutenant Smith of H.M.S. _Imperturbable_,
bound for Ysabel Island to relieve Lieutenant Underhill."
"The dickens! That's my job! Where do you hail from?"
"From London, sir. I'm afraid I've beaten you by a neck."
"Great Scott! Is this the Admiralty's latest?"
"Not official, sir; I'm here in a private capacity. My father's among
the wrecked party. I'm on leave."
"So it seems. When are you due back?"
"On Friday morning."
"I'm sorry for you, then. But, goodness alive! when did you start? The
wreck was only reported four days ago."
"Started Friday morning, sir."
"Gammon!"
"Rasher to you, sir."
"You haven't lost much time, at any rate. What's your speed?"
"About a hundred and ninety. Whereabouts was the wreck, sir?"
"A hundred miles or so up the coast, according to the men of
Underhill's party with me."
"Then I'll bid you good-bye for the present. I'll tell him you're
coming."
"Hope you'll find him alive."
Waving a good-bye, Smith flew on at full speed. For twenty minutes he
did not attempt to follow the indentations of the coast, but set a
course parallel with its general trend. Then, however, he steered so
that, without actually tracing every curve of the shore, he was able
to survey it pretty closely. By dead reckoning and the assistance of
his chart he was able to check from minute to minute his approximate
position.
He had passed Mount Gaillard, and saw, some miles to the north, the
remarkable saddle shape of Mount Mahaga. Then he made a bee-line for
Fulakora Point. Rounding this, his course was to the north-west. The
coast was steep and precipitous; here and there were reefs, over which
the sea broke in white upward cascades, and he was at no loss to
understand how even the most skilfully navigated vessel might easily
come to grief. About forty miles from the extremity of the island he
flew over an immense lagoon, extending for several miles between
Ysabel Island and a series of islets and reefs lying off the shore.
From this point the sea was dotted with islets so numerous that it was
impossible, at his high speed, to identify them. But he recognized the
deep indentation of Marcella Bay, confirming his observation by the
conspicuous wooded islet rising some hundred feet from the sea at its
northern arm. He knew that the scene of the wreck must be within a few
miles of this point, and reduced his speed so that he might scan the
sea for any sign of the _Albatross_.
For some time he flew up and down, but failed to distinguish a
battered hull, a funnel, or any remnant of the vessel. It was plain
that she had been entirely broken up. This was perplexing. He wondered
how he was to discover the party, if they were yet alive. The island
itself appeared, from his position off the shore, to be an
impenetrable mass of forest. Flying in a little nearer, and going
dead slow, Rodier presently caught sight of a square fenced enclosure
within a few yards of the edge of the cliff. Smith steered directly
over it, descending to a height of about fifty feet, and then saw in
the middle of the space a long piece of navy tarpaulin, several
biscuit tins, a hammer, two or three hatchets, and other objects,
which only white men could have placed there. It flashed upon him in a
moment that the shipwrecked party had encamped here. But there was not
a human being in sight, and he felt a stabbing conviction that he had
come too late.
Sick at heart, he made up his mind to descend and examine the place
and its surroundings more closely. There was plenty of room for the
aeroplane within the enclosure. Coming to the ground, he stepped, with
Rodier, out of the car, each carrying his revolver. Now he saw, in
addition to the articles before mentioned, a good number of arrows at
various points, a few broken spears, a tomahawk of a rude kind. Here
and there, on the barricade and below it, there were dark stains.
These signs only increased his anxiety, but at the same time awakened
wonder. Why had the party left their fort? It seemed scarcely likely
that they had been overpowered in an assault, for there were no marks
of a struggle within the barricade, and if the savages had succeeded
in an attack they would certainly have appropriated all that they
could lay hands on; even the most trivial objects would be precious to
unsophisticated children of nature. Rodier suggested that the
castaways had been taken off by some passing vessel, and Smith,
catching at the hope, was beginning to accept this view, when, lifting
the tarpaulin, he found beneath it the papers of the _Albatross_, some
notebooks filled with jottings in his father's spidery handwriting,
and a few small cases that contained bits of rock, fossils, and other
specimens dear to the geologist, each labelled with the name of the
place where it had been found.
Smith was now thoroughly alarmed. He knew that his father, if he had
quitted the place voluntarily, would never have left behind these
fruits of his labours. Yet why was the fort deserted?
"Ah, bah! They have gone foraging," said Rodier, unwittingly hitting
on the truth.
"But they would never leave the place unguarded," replied Smith. "The
savages certainly attacked them; look at the arrows and spears. But
Mr. Underhill would not have yielded without fighting; yet there are
no dead bodies, not even the cut-up earth there would be if they had
had a tussle. I can't account for it any way."
"Well, mister, we better look them up."
"In the aeroplane, you mean?"
"Yes. They must be here, in this island, or not here. In the
aeroplane we search all over."
"It will be like looking for rabbits in bracken," said Smith, pointing
to the forest. "Still, we must try."
He sat down on a biscuit tin to think over the position and evolve a
plan. A random search might be mere waste of time. Starting with the
assumption that the castaways were still on the island, he said to
himself that they must have left the fort voluntarily, or there would
certainly be signs of a struggle. That they had left no one on guard
seemed to show that they were in no alarm, otherwise they would have
carried their belongings with them. His father, he knew, would not
abandon his note-books and specimens. Was it possible that they were
making reprisals on the enemy who had previously attacked them? But
even in this case they would hardly have left their fort wholly
undefended, unless in the heat of victory they had rushed out in
headlong pursuit, a rash movement which a naval officer would hardly
countenance. Besides, they were but ill-provided with arms. Had they
been enticed forth by the savages? In that case the savages would
surely have plundered the camp, unless--and now his thought and his
pulse quickened--unless there had not yet been time. Perhaps they had
only recently left the place. Then they could not be far away, and if
they had yielded to allurement there might still be time to save
them. He started up, and told Rodier, who had begun his customary task
of cleaning the engine, the conclusion to which he had come.
"We will ascend at once," he said, "and scour the neighbourhood. The
forest is thick, but perhaps there are clear spaces in it. Let us lose
no time."
They dragged the aeroplane to the inner extremity of the enclosure,
turned it round, and started it towards the sea. In less than a minute
it was two hundred feet in the air. Then Smith wheeled round and
steered across the camp, intending to take that as a centre, and
strike out along successive radii, so that in the course of an hour or
two, even at moderate speed, he would have searched a considerable
extent of country in the shape of a fan. It was a question how far he
should proceed in one direction, but relying on his idea that the
evacuation of the camp could only recently have taken place, he
resolved to content himself at first with a distance of about ten
miles.
Having risen to a height of about three hundred feet, he found that he
commanded a view of many miles of the country. Far to the south were
the mountains; all around was forest, broken here and there by patches
of open rocky ground. Beneath him the trees were so densely packed
that a whole army might have been encamped among them without giving
a sign of its presence. He sped in a straight line west-north-west of
the fort, at a speed of between forty and fifty miles an hour; to go
faster would have rendered careful exploration of the country
difficult. Having completed ten miles without passing over a single
spot of clear ground, he flew about five miles due west, then turned
the machine and steered back towards the fort along the next imaginary
radius of his circle. He had arranged that Rodier should scan the
country to the left while he himself kept as good a look-out to the
right as was possible when he had engine and compass to attend to.
They had not flown far on this backward journey when Rodier, who was
using his binocular, shouted that he saw, on a headland far to the
left, what appeared to be a native village. Smith instantly steered
towards it. It was the first evidence of human habitation they had as
yet come across, and even at the risk of losing his bearings he must
examine it. He could now afford to go at full speed, and a few minutes
brought him above the village, which was a collection of rude huts
perched on a steep headland overlooking the sea, and defended on its
inland and less precipitous side by barriers of stakes. The noise made
by the engine as the aeroplane swept down towards the village first
drew all the inhabitants from their huts into the open enclosure, and
then sent them scampering back with shrieks of alarm as they saw the
strange object in the air. A glance sufficed to assure Smith, as he
wheeled round the village, that it contained no white men, unless they
had been taken inside the huts, which was unlikely. Without loss of
time he steered as nearly as he could towards the point at which he
had diverged from his settled course, and returned to the camp,
pausing once to examine a small tract where the trees were somewhat
thinner, allowing him to see the ground beneath.
Once more he started, steering now in a more westerly direction. There
were several clear spaces along this radius, and Smith flew over them
slowly, more than once wheeling about to make sure that his eyes had
missed nothing. But at these times he saw no human beings, nothing but
the wild animals of the forest, huge pigs being diminished to the size
of rabbits, and dingoes to the size of mice. These scurried away when
they heard the noise of the engine, and Smith hovered around for a
time to see if the flight of the animals attracted the attention of
men, but in vain.
Having again covered ten miles, as nearly as he could judge, he swung
round to the southwest. A minute or two later he came to the largest
open space he had yet seen, clear of undergrowth as well as of trees.
There were no huts upon it, and at first he saw no sign of men; but
all at once Rodier cried that there was a ladder against one of the
trees on the farther side of the clearing. Flying towards it, and
descending until the aeroplane was level with the tree-top, Smith was
amazed to see a brown woman, with a brown baby under her arm,
scuttling down the ladder towards the ground. At the same time he
became aware that there were ladders against many of the trees in the
neighbourhood, and women and children were descending by them, showing
all the marks of terror. He had come upon a collection of the curious
tree-houses, sixty or seventy feet from the ground, which some of the
islanders inhabit. The terrified people when they reached the ground
fled into the forest. There was no man among them, which led Smith to
suspect that the men were either hunting for food, or were perhaps
fighting with the castaways. Instead of returning directly to the
camp, therefore, he pursued his flight across the forest in the same
direction in which the startled natives had run. Now for the first
time he wished that he could have had a silent engine, for then his
ears might have given the information which failed his eyes. Though he
flew to and fro for some time in the vicinity of the tree-houses, he
discovered no other break in the forest; and the impossibility of
knowing what was going on beneath that vast screen of foliage began
to affect him with hopelessness of success.
He wished it were possible to descend in the clearing, and continue
his search on the ground. The appearance of the aeroplane was so
terrifying to the islanders that he need fear no opposition to his
landing. But the idea occurred to him only to be at once dismissed.
When once among the trees, away from the aeroplane, he would be no
longer sacrosanct. Those islanders who had actually witnessed his
descent might fear him as a denizen of the sky; but any others that
met him in the forest would not be restrained by superstitious fear
from, treating him as an enemy. Further, having once involved himself
in the obscure and pathless depths of the forest, he might wander for
hours, or even days, without finding the aeroplane. It was an
impossible course of action. Hopeless as he was becoming, he felt that
he could do nothing better than persevere as he had begun; after all,
he had as yet covered only a small wedge of the segment he had
proposed to himself.
But he now found himself in a difficulty. In the excitement of his
recent discovery he had neglected to keep a watch upon the compass,
and he was now at a loss to know the precise direction in which to
steer. He must certainly go to the east, but he could not tell whether
he was north or south of the camp. It occurred to him that by rising
to a greater height he might probably be able to descry the camp, so
he planed upwards until he attained an altitude of nearly two thousand
feet, Rodier searching the country seawards through his binocular.
"I see it!" he cried at length, adding, as Smith began to steer
towards it, "Wait a minute, mister; I see all the country better here;
I can pick out the clearings, though they are only dark blots; but yet
I can do it."
He swept the country for miles around. Beyond the forest, far to the
west, there were stretches of rugged uplands, bare of vegetation. It
was not at all likely that the Englishmen had gone so far from their
camp, whether willingly or unwillingly. To the east and south-east
stretched the sea, and Rodier declared that he saw, an immense way
off, the smoke of a steamer, no doubt the gunboat. Lowering the glass
to scan the nearer prospect, he suddenly gave a lusty shout.
"I see smoke, mister; a quite little smoke, as of a cigarette."
"Where?" asked Smith eagerly.
"South-east of us, in the forest, about five or six miles off."
"We'll go and see what it comes from."
Smith scarcely dared to hope that the discovery of the smoke would be
of any assistance to him. But it was the first indication of a camp
within the forest, whether of the islanders or of his friends, and he
could not neglect to investigate it. The aeroplane flew along at the
speed of a swallow. In little more than three minutes it reached the
twine of smoke. Checking the engine, Smith wheeled the aeroplane round
until it passed slowly over an extensive gap in the forest. He looked
down. The smoke rose from a fire in the midst of the clearing. At a
little distance from it there was a throng of islanders, gazing up
awe-struck at the strange apparition whose approach had been heralded
from afar, and which now circled above them, making terrifying noises.
But Smith was not interested in the islanders. He peered among them
and around for white men. He felt a shock of bitter disappointment;
all the upturned faces were brown. But the movement of the aeroplane
brought him to the verge of the forest, and then Rodier gave a shout
of delight.
"There they are! There they are, mister!" he cried, pointing obliquely
downwards.
Smith looked over. In the shade at the foot of the trees he saw a
number of men bound each to a trunk. Their faces, directed upwards,
were too darkly shadowed for him to distinguish their race; but they
were clothed. Beyond doubt they were the castaways.
In a moment he determined what to do. While the aeroplane circled
slowly above their heads the islanders would feel no more than awe
and wonder. They huddled together like a flock of sheep in a
thunderstorm, probably not as yet connecting the aerial visitant with
their prisoners. What was required was to scatter them, suddenly, in a
way that would smite them with terror, and cause them to flee without
thought of the captives helpless against the trees.
Smith sailed away eastward, disappearing from their sight. He had made
a quick mental calculation of the extent of the clearing. Rising to
the height of about three hundred feet above the ground, while still
out of sight he suddenly stopped the engine and warped the planes for
a dive. The aeroplane descended rapidly, grazed the tops of the trees,
and then, more slowly, swept, silently, in a gentle curve towards the
throng of men, who were chattering about the mysterious sky visitor.
When they caught sight of it they were struck dumb, and for a few
moments seemed to be fixed to the ground with amazement. Then, as it
came directly towards them, and Smith set the noisy propellers in
motion, they uttered shrieks of dismay and terror, and fled like hares
into the forest.
Some of them started too late. Smith, being now near the ground, set
the engine going at low speed, overtook a group of the islanders
before they reached shelter, and with a touch of the aeroplane
flung them violently on their faces. He then wheeled round, and rose
once more into the air in order to effect a complete descent. The
prostrate natives lay for some time in a paralysis of fear; but
finding that they were unhurt, and that the monster had withdrawn from
them, they picked themselves up, and ran to overtake their friends,
leaving the space clear.
In another minute Smith had brought the aeroplane safely to the
ground. Rodier and he sprang out and ran towards the bound figures.
"It's Charley!" called a voice, in tones wherein surprise and joy were
blended.
And then the sailormen, famished and feeble as they were, broke forth
in hoarse cheers and incoherent shouts, which died away in sobs.