A CAPRICIOUS EARTHQUAKE
The fight was still raging fiercely when blackness fell upon us once
more, and for the first time I became panic-stricken. The sky had not
been clear all day, but we had managed to see until now, ever since the
fight began, but with a black pall hanging all around us and thousands
of enemies marking us for death the outlook was absolutely terrifying.
The Faytans had not been afraid of the dark before, and if now they had
the temerity to continue the attack we could not hope to resist them
long.
My fears were soon justified. I heard Joe cry: “Look out, Sam!” and felt
rather than saw a big warrior standing before me. The moaning sound that
preceded a quake sang in my ears as I struck out furiously with my
cutlass, and then the ship reared her stem and pitched us all in a
struggling mass down the incline of the deck to the bow.
I struck against a naked body and two hands grasped my throat and
effectually stopped my breath until I got a pistol out and shot my
assailant dead. At least he relaxed his hold and slid away from me—and I
slid too, rolling and bumping against obstacles of every sort till my
bones cracked. And now through the pitch darkness everything seemed to
go—ship and all—and a sheet of water struck me and made me gasp.
The _Seagull_ was level now, but rolled from side to side while big
waves dashed over her and rushed out of the scuppers in a perpetual
stream. I heard a faint cheer from the forecastle; but now the elements
were in a wild turmoil and I was too utterly bewildered to think.
The wind had instantly risen to a gale; the waves beat upon us in fury,
and through the darkness the _Seagull_ floundered here and there in an
aimless way that was puzzling and perilous.
While I clung to a bit of rigging and tried to get my breath I realized
but one thing clearly—that the ship was afloat again. An earthquake more
severe than any that had previously occurred had split the two rocks
asunder and allowed her to slide into the sea. But where were we now?
And where were the Faytans?
It takes a good deal to phase Captain Steele. Even while I stood
marveling my father had grasped the wheel, and, as our rudder and screw
had been fully repaired the aimless pitching of the ship was rectified
as soon as her head was brought to the wind and she faced the waves.
Then suddenly the sky brightened sufficiently for us to see one another
again.
In the bow stood huddled a group of nearly a dozen Faytan warriors,
while our men were scattered here and there clinging to whatever support
they could find. I found that Joe wasn’t a dozen yards away from me. The
_Seagull_ was floating serenely on a rather turbulent sea and the coast
of Faytan was a quarter of a mile on our lee.
We stared at the warriors a moment, and they stared at us. Then with one
accord we all made an advance toward the savages, determined to settle
the fight the first thing we did. They did not wait for us, but leaped
the rail into the sea and began swimming toward their island.
“Let ’em go!” shouted my father. “And some of you get busy and toss
those bodies overboard. Where’s the firemen? Step lively, lads, and get
up steam as soon as the Lord’ll let you.”
The men gave a cheer and responded with alacrity. We stripped all the
pearl ornaments from the dead natives that cluttered the deck, and
afterward threw the bodies overboard. During this operation I came upon
Señor de Jiminez seated in the scupper with his back to the bulwark and
sobbing like a baby.
“Is anything wrong, sir?” I asked anxiously.
“No—no! Everything is right,” he answered. “We are saved—the revolution
is saved! Hurrah for the revolution!”
Joy affects some people that way, but I have no patience with men who
cry.
We got up steam presently, but found the _Seagull_ was leaking like a
sieve. It took all the power of our engines to keep the pumps going; so
my father ordered sail hoisted, and as the wind had moderated to a stiff
breeze we were soon bowling along with the mainsail and jib set. The
mizzenmast had gone by the board at the time of the wreck.
My father’s face wore an anxious expression and he called Uncle Naboth
and me into the cabin for a consultation.
“We can keep afloat this way for a time—perhaps for days, if the leaks
don’t get worse,” he said; “but it’s foolish to take such chances. There
are islands near by, I’m sure. Shall we stop at the first one we sight?”
“H-m. It might prove to be another Faytan,” said my uncle, doubtfully.
“I’ve had enough fighting to last me for a while.”
“Wait a moment,” said I. “I want to get Bry.”
“What for?” demanded my father.
“He’s the only one aboard who knows these seas,” I replied.
Bryonia came to the cabin and being questioned declared that he knew the
way to his own island of Tuamotu from here, but could not tell how to
get from there back to our regular course.
“I know, though,” said Captain Steele, “for Tuamotu is marked on my
chart. It seems a French ship stopped there once, and did some trading
with the natives, so I’ve got it pretty fairly located.”
“But what sort of a reception will your people give us, Bry?” I asked.
He smiled.
“I am Chief of Tuamotu,” he answered proudly. “I am equal to a king. My
friends will be welcome.”
“All right,” said my father. “Take the wheel, Bry, and steer us towards
Tuamotu.”
Bry became navigator then, and although he knew nothing of the science
he possessed an instinct that guided him correctly. Having once been
over the course from Tuamotu to Faytan he had the points firmly fixed in
his mind, and as the distance was only about a hundred miles and the
breeze held finely, on the second day we sighted a big island which both
Bry and Nux declared to be Tuamotu.
Meantime a semblance of order had been restored to the ship. From being
in the depths of despair our passengers were now elated with hope. They
paid little heed to the fact that water was pouring into our hold as
fast as the engines could pump it out, for having escaped the more
tangible dangers of Faytan they believed our luck had changed and all
would now be well with us.
Our men realized the situation and wore grave looks. But Lucia pounded
the piano and sang her Spanish songs; Señor de Jiminez resumed his
writing of the speech to be delivered before the Colombian Congress, and
Madam de Alcantara dressed herself in her most gorgeous robes and
declared she had enjoyed her recent adventure except for a sad attack of
“nerves.”
Joe and I made a list of the pearls we had secured at Faytan, including
those rifled from the dead bodies of our enemies. They made so large a
collection and were of such extraordinary size and color that we knew
they would sell for an immense sum in America. All of our men were to
participate in the “prize money,” for all had helped to earn it.
Joe, however, was richer in pearls than all the rest of us. When left by
Lucia at the Pearl City he had easily made his way unobserved to the
temple and crept through the window into our old room. Here he remained
quietly secreted for a time, but the silence throughout the great
building was so profound that he ventured to explore some of the
passages that were unknown to him. One of them led him to the inner
shrine of the temple, where an ugly image of the Pearl God was
installed. At the feet of this deity had been placed the most splendid
pearls found by the Faytans for many generations past, and Joe calmly
filled the folds of his loin cloth as full as they would hold of the
choicest gems.
At that moment he was discovered by an attendant, who raised a hue and
cry just as the king was returning from the bay at the head of his
people, all heartily disgusted by my escape. Joe managed to leap from
the window and speed away before the Faytans fully recovered from their
astonishment, and then began the race which I had ended by taking Joe
aboard the airship.
Next to Joe’s splendid pearls, the value of which would make any man
rich, however greedy he might be, my own string of gems, presented me by
Attero, was of prime importance. Tiffany has since valued them at forty
thousand dollars, but I will not part with them. I liked Attero and have
always regretted that Joe had to kill him.