As long as they were in the shelter of the trees and hills, they had no
idea how high it was blowing, but as soon as they gained the beach
things appeared in their true light. The sea, even with the wind
blowing off the land, was houses high, and like a snow-field with the
froth and spume that covered it. The _Gloaming Star_ could hardly be
seen in the midst of the spray and even green seas that dashed over her.
As they gazed despairingly towards her, the gale suddenly increased to
tenfold its former violence. The waves now made a clean breach over the
spot of land that sheltered the ship, if shelter it could be called.
Gravel, sand, earth, and dead branches were torn off the ground and
hurled into the air; it got darker and darker; the lightning played
quick, vivid, and bright everywhere about them; and high over the
roaring of wind and water rose the deafening rattle of thunder. While
trees were being uprooted in the woods, or snapped like twigs, and the
whole island was shaken to its very foundation, Leonard and his party
were creeping on all fours to the shelter of a rock, and night fell just
as they found themselves safe inside a cave on the sea-beach.
All that night the wind howled and roared, and the rain came down in
torrents. Sleep was out of the question, for the thunder was constant,
and by the glimmer of the lightning's flash they could see each other's
blue, pale faces as they crouched on the sandy floor of the cave.
Morning broke at last, and the wind went down, the sun rose and shone
luridly over the heaving waters, and they stood together on the
sea-beach--alone!
The _Gloaming Star_ was nowhere to be seen, but whether she broke her
moorings, and drifted out to sea to founder, or whether Captain Blunt
had thought it would be safer to run before the fearful gale, they could
not guess.
The wind still blew stiff, but the force of the hurricane was spent.
They went to the place where the boat had been left. It had been
smashed to pieces, hardly a timber was left, and the keel stuck up out
of a sandbank, beside the tree to which the painter had been attached.
Leonard looked at Douglas, and Douglas at Leonard, and both smiled,
though somewhat sadly. The same thoughts were evidently passing through
the minds of each.
"Well," said Douglas, "if the ship is safe, and I believe she is, she is
sure to come back for us."
"And a few days or even weeks in so beautiful a place won't hurt," said
Leonard.
"This is like being marooned, isn't it, gentlemen?" one of the sailors
remarked.
"Well, it is being marooned by fortune, but we must make the best of
it."
In the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word as "fail." There
should not be, at all events; and so these deserted sailors at once set
about making the best of a bad job.
They had hope in their hearts--which were stout ones all of them--and
after a bit they quite enjoyed their Crusoe life.
They had axes, and spades, and knives, and guns, and plenty of
ammunition; but even had they possessed none of these tools, they could
have lived on the fruit that grew so abundantly everywhere, on bushes on
the hills, and on trees in every glade and glen.
As gales of wind or hurricanes might come again and level the strongest
hut they could build, they determined to become for a time
cave-dwellers. They searched for, and found farther inland, and up on a
terrace in the side of a woody hill, just the place that would suit--a
large, dry, lofty cave in sight of the sea. They at once set about
fitting it up for a dwelling. The floor was covered deep in silvery
sand. Nothing could be better, whether to squat in by day, or sleep on
by night. The entrance to the cave was built up with felled trees,
leaving only a small entrance for light, and a doorway. Thus the
dwelling-house was speedily completed.
"Why not," said Leonard, "fortify this terrace?"
"Good," replied Douglas; "we have nothing else to do, and I can't forget
that footstep in the sand of Crusoe's Isle."
"And as we never know what may happen," continued Douglas, "I propose
that we store our guns and ammunition, and trap game for our food."
This proposal was carried unanimously.
Some of the men were clever trappers, and others were good fishermen, so
there was no want of food, and water was abundant.
On the sea-beach a fire was kindled, and day and night this was kept up,
sentries being always posted here, armed.
The rampart was soon completed round the terrace, and a strong one it
was.
A whole week had gone, and as yet nothing had been seen of the _Gloaming
Star_, and the hopes of our heroes began to get very low indeed.
A whole week, then another and another. Their hearts sank with each
recurring day. They got tired even of the beauty of the island, and
tired and sick of gazing always out to the sea, which looked to them now
so void and merciless. They envied even the sea-birds, that seemed so
happy and joyous, and whom nothing could imprison.
"It would be a good idea," said Douglas one day, "to build a boat and
sail away somewhere."
"Yes, but whither?"
"Yes, whither?" repeated Douglas sadly.
One day, while roaming together on the other side of the island,
suddenly there sprang up in front of Leonard and Douglas, as if from the
very earth, a naked savage. He stood but for a moment, then waving a
club aloft with a wild shout of fear and wonder, he fled far away into
the woods.
They returned to the cave, and reported what they had seen, and all
agreed that though danger might accrue from the visit of natives to the
island, still it might end in their being set free.
It was determined, however, to be now doubly vigilant. The sentry was
no longer placed on the beach but inside the rampart, and never less
than four men went to the woods together.
Days and days went past, a sad time of doubt and uncertainty, and still
no signs of savages. They came at last, however.
And one morning, looking down over the ramparts, they could see a group
of tall, armed, and painted natives, standing on the sand spit examining
the broken keel of the boat.
Then they disappeared in the bush.
Arms were got out now; the one little gate that led through the rampart
was doubly barricaded; the little garrison waited and watched.
The forenoon wore on, birds sang in the trees, the low wind sighed
through the woods, and the lovely flowers opened their petals to bask in
the sweet sunshine. There were joy and gladness everywhere except in
the hearts of those anxious mariners.
The day wore on, and the sun began to decline in the west. Our heroes
had just finished dinner when the sentry lifted his finger, and beckoned
to them. Through an opening in the rampart they could perceive fully a
score of club- and spear-armed savages creeping stealthily up the hill.
As soon, however, as they were boldly hailed from the fort--for fort it
might now be considered--they cast all attempts at concealment aside,
and with a yell that was re-echoed back from every rock around they
dashed onwards to the attack.
"Steady, men. Take good aim, and don't throw away a shot."
A volley completely staggered the enemy. They fell back quicker than
they had come, going helter-skelter down the hill, and leaving several
dead and wounded behind them.
Not for long though. Savages may be beaten, but if there is the
slightest chance to overcome by numbers they invariably return.
The day passed, however, and eke the long, dreary night, during which no
one closed an eye till the sun once more rose over the sea in the
morning. Most of the men slept all the forenoon. Luckily they did, for
in the afternoon the savages returned in redoubled numbers, and this
time many of them actually swarmed over the ramparts, but only to be
felled inside.
It was a terrible _melee_, but ended once more in victory for our side.
A whole week now wore away without further molestation, but the worst
was to come, for the garrison was reduced to five defenders, two having
been wounded in the last fight, one of whom had succumbed to his wounds.
It was early in the morning, and the stars were still shining bright and
clearly over the sea, when one of the sentries reported the woods on
fire to windward. The flames spread with alarming rapidity, and by
daybreak were close at hand; the fort was enveloped in smoke, while
sparks as thick as falling snowflakes in a winter's storm were showered
around them.
In the midst of smoke and fire the savages intended making their final
attempt to carry the fort, and our heroes determined to sell their lives
dearly, and fight to the end.
Already they could hear the yells of the approaching spearmen, though
they were invisible.
But why come they not on? Why does the yelling continue and go farther
and farther back and away? Hark! it is the ring of firearms.
Oh, joy! the _Gloaming Star_ must have returned. But was this really
so? No, for the white men now engaged in a hand-to-hand combat with
those daring savages are men of a different class from the honest crew
of the _Gloaming Star_.
The sound of the battle grows fainter and fainter, till it ceases
entirely.
Leonard and Douglas wait and watch, trying to peer through the smoke,
and unravel, if possible, some of the mystery that has been taking place
below.
Dimly through the haze at last they can notice figures dressed in white
clambering up the hill.
"Come out at once, you white fellows," cries a bold English voice.
"Come forth, if you don't want to be roasted alive. The fire is close
on you."
The rampart gates were opened, and the besieged bade speedy farewell for
ever to their cave and fort. Sturdy, bare, brown-armed sailors, armed
with cutlasses and pistols, were their rescuers, but presently they
found themselves on the beach, and standing in front of the ringleader
or captain of the band. A tall handsome man he was, dressed in white,
with a turban of silk around his head, and a sword by his side. He was
smoking a cheroot.
"Happy to see you, anyhow," he said. "Squat yourselves down on the sand
there; I guess you're tired."
"And I, Captain Bland, am glad to see _you_ once again."
"What! you know me then?"
"Yes, though you can hardly be expected to remember the lad you
kidnapped."
Bland jumped up and seized Leonard by the hand, while tears filled his
eyes.
"Oh!" he said, "this is a greater joy then ever I could have dreamt of,
greater than ever I deserved. I care little now how soon my wanderings
are ended, or how soon I leave the world itself."
"Do not speak in this sad tone, Captain Bland; believe me, it is a
pleasure to me to meet you. I never believed you the hardened criminal
that some would have you."
"Criminal!" cried Bland, flushing excitedly, "who dare call me criminal?
And yet," he added, in a tone of great sadness, and even pathos,
"perhaps I have been a criminal, a smuggler, yea, even to some extent a
pirate. I have never yet, however, done one cruel action; but had I my
life to begin over again, how different it would all be!"
"And that barque lying out there is yours?"
"Yes; and my trade you would ask? I deal in slaves and gold. I have
found gold. But what good is it all? I live a life of constant
excitement; were this to fail me I should die. But you saved my
worthless life, lad."
"And now you have saved ours."
"Yes, and I'll do more. I'll restore you to your ship and your captain.
He it was who sent me here in search of you, but he mentioned no name,
and little did he know the pleasure he was giving me."
"And the _Gloaming Star_?"
"Is in the hands of my merry men. Do not be alarmed. It was a
bloodless victory. And now she shall be restored to you safe and sound.
"Come, my boats are here to take you off, and your ship lies safe at
anchor not sixty miles away. Come."
Book 3--CHAPTER FIVE.