THE MASTER POACHER
There were woods in abundance about the base of the tufa cliff that
would burn almost as slowly and retain their glow about as long as the
hardest of anthracite coal.
Yet it was not on these that Grenville depended, that particular night,
to maintain the fire he had conjured from flint and steel. All those
long dark hours he served his altar flame with fuel gathered for the
purpose. An easier method for its preservation, by means of the woods
that were promptly discovered, he adopted, however, very soon.
Each day that was ushered in and closed by the island's haunting wails
and chorus, now beheld some new development in the plans that Grenville
was laying. Elaine, less disturbed by the hideous sounds, might have
learned more promptly to accept them as part of the ordeal of living in
this extraordinary fashion, had they always come at stated hours. But,
born of the tides, they came with the tides, which, all the world over,
shift with each day till every hour of the twenty-four has had its
visitation. Like a horrid reminder of the brevity of life, the thing
was fore-ordered to rise unexpectedly, fret forgetful senses, and
linger longest, apparently, in the deadest hours of the night.
Concerning her companion, her mind was far more calm. Her distrust and
dislike were unabated, but he gave her no cause for added worry.
By the third day after his fire had been accomplished, Grenville had
considerably altered their aspects and prospects of living. Their
bamboo flagpole stood in a crevice of the highest rock, with "rags" of
banana leaves idly flapping out a signal of distress; a number of
pipkins, large and small, were grayly drying in the sun, to be
subsequently fired; his bow was strung, beside three unfeathered
arrows, crudely tipped with points that Sidney had pounded out of
screws; charcoal was burning, down in the blackened clearing; a number
of traps and dead-falls were nearing completion; and several basket
loads both of sulphur and saltpeter were stored in caverns, which the
man had roofed to protect them from the rain.
Much toil had been involved in these achievements. The bamboo pole,
for instance, had been most laboriously burned off, close to its base.
To accomplish this end, the man had carried coals of fire to the
estuary swamp, created a blaze, and repeatedly heated his longest piece
of brass, which had slowly charred a channel through the wood when
smartly applied to its surface.
The cord that secured the "flag" upon this serviceable mast, had been
made, like the string for the bow, by twisting together innumerable
threads of the fiber imbedded in the bark of the creepers. This had
then been "waxed" with the glutinous ooze from the nearest rubber tree,
with which the jungle abounded. He had also found wild sisal in the
rocky places of the island. This plant had a leaf like a bayonet,
sometimes six feet long, and readily split into fibers of most
astonishing strength, especially when three were braided into a cord.
Considerably to Grenville's amazement, the molding of jugs, some
crucibles, and other essential vessels suggested by the presence of the
clay, was not at all a simple matter. His material, which at first was
mixed too soft, was readily stiffened to a workable consistency, and
the bases and first six inches or more of flaring walls of his pipkins
had been fashioned as a child would fashion "pies." It was when he
undertook to crimp and contract this flaring rim that the craftsmanship
known to the potter required once again to be evolved.
For a time the longer he wrought at the stubborn material the more
completely Grenville was defeated by the clay. He discovered at last,
as similar workmen in every age and clime have ultimately discovered,
that potteries thus constructed by hand must be built up in rings, one
ring at a time, especially where the walls draw in to an ever narrowing
diameter.
When, at length, this simple fact had been established--the first
success having come to Elaine, whose feminine wit had been nimbler far
than the man's--a highly respectable family of jugs and useful
receptacles had rapidly come into being.
Mid-afternoon of this busy day found Grenville engrossed with his
labors. Despite the fact they had not yet dined on anything but fruit,
he was preparing salt for meat. The shell he had found was full of
water from the sea, evaporating rapidly in a bed of hot ashes and
coals. This, however, was resigned to Elaine's efficient vigilance,
while Sidney worked absorbingly to complete a number of small clay
molds designed for the casting of tools.
When, at length, the last of these was done and set aside to dry with
the jugs and assorted vessels, he glanced briefly up at the sun. There
were several hours of this blazing light remaining. Resolved in one
moment to hasten to the jungle with his bow and the unfeathered arrows,
which might be relied upon at easy range to fly sufficiently straight
for all his purposes, Grenville determined in the next to make them a
bit more certain.
A branch and leaf from a freshly despoiled banana plant had suggested
"feathers" for his shafts. It was the work of a moment only to cut out
and trim a slender bit of the fibrous branch from which the leaf
substance projected. The leaf part itself, which was rather tough, and
considerably like a stiffened cloth in texture, he cut to shape no less
quickly. Then, binding on each of the arrows a trio of these
improvised "rudders," he took up his club, informed Elaine he might be
absent half an hour, and descended at once to the clearing.
His porcupine, seen no less than half a dozen times when his arms had
been burdened, or his club was not at hand, was not to be found for all
his elaborate searching, now that he was desirable for dinner.
Naturally, Grenville had no particular preference for porcupine where
pheasants were not impossible. But the fact that the bristling
hedgehog is not to be despised, he knew from past experience.
Moreover, he had fondly hoped this somewhat stupid quarry might be
readily found and taken.
Notwithstanding the fact that for three days past not a sign had been
vouchsafed him of the tiger, Grenville took to himself no fulsome sense
of security as he made his way slowly through the jungle, towards the
estuary swamp. The island was small; the brute was always near--and
some day the contest between they two must be waged to a definite
conclusion.
The axiom is old that the most game is seen when the huntsman has no
weapon. It seemed to Grenville, slipping as noiselessly as possible
down towards the water, where birds and beasts had always been
encountered, that the island had been suddenly deserted. He saw not a
thing, beyond the vaguest movements in the trees, perhaps for the very
fact he moved so cautiously, and thereby assumed an aspect that was
crafty, sinister, or suspicious.
Some reptile glided to the water, starting a ripple on the surface, but
not even its head was visible to the watchful eyes of the man. An
arrow was notched upon his bow, and, while the practice in which he had
indulged had been far too brief to develop the skill he knew he might
finally acquire, Sidney was certain that up to a range of five or ten
yards his shaft would prove fairly deadly.
He had heretofore seen no game at all that was not, in fact, almost
under his very feet. Of the pheasants, flushed before on at least
three separate occasions, he detected not so much as a hint. The
monkeys were silent. Not even the noisy parrots flew out with their
usual disturbance. All about the growth of bamboo he trod, wherever a
space was open, but in vain.
Reflecting that the pheasants might have gone beyond, to a section
where rocks and shrubbery doubtless afforded the seeds or berries on
which they would probably feed, he started more briskly towards the
trail that would take him past the wreck.
He had not entirely cleared the bamboo growth when, abruptly, there in
the open space before him, hardly fifteen feet away, a wild hog paused,
fairly startled to inaction where it had entered the clearing from the
jungle. It had turned its head to stare at the man inquiringly. Its
two little eyes, maliciously gleaming, increased its threatening aspect
as the bristles slowly rose on its back.
Without making the slightest unnecessary movement, Grenville raised his
bow. He drew the arrow fairly to the head. A sharp twang followed
instantly. A streak of gray sped swiftly and obliquely towards the
earth. Then, for a second, Grenville saw the stout shaft quiver where
it was buried in the base of the creature's neck.
One challenging grunt the wild hog uttered, starting as if to charge.
But the arrow had shattered the nerves that make for rage and courage,
cleaving to the seat of life itself.
The boar staggered blindly, instinctively, back to the dense,
concealing jungle.
Grenville heard it grunt once savagely, as it broke its way past
interfering branches of the growth. He realized it was escaping, that
it might reach a hole or other concealment before it fell, and cheat
him of his dinner.
He dropped his bow, as a useless impediment in such a tangle, and
plunged in a reckless manner through the shrubbery and vines where his
quarry was no longer in sight.
The hog must have stumbled forward with considerable speed. A
vibrating palm, ten feet ahead of his position, urged Sidney
impulsively forward. He was baffled and retarded in a most
exasperating fashion by the creepers woven through the thicket.
Obliged to make a slight detour, he smashed a path between two stout
banana palms--and came upon a hidden clearing. There was one
unexpectedly violent movement of the growth just opposite, and there he
thought his hog was dying.
Instantly upon his startled vision impinged a blot of yellow color.
The full active form of the tiger was immediately revealed, as the
brute leaped forth and sank his teeth in the neck of the sinking boar.
There was one shrill mort cry only as the hog became inert. Half
raising the limber form in his massive jaws, the while his eyes wildly
blazed his challenge to and defiance of the man who had halted in the
clearing, the great supple creature, with the studded gold band about
his neck, slowly strode once more within the jungle.
With a horribly disquieting comprehension of the fact he had doubtless
been stalked for the past half hour, which fully accounted for the
absence of game along the trails, Grenville retreated from the place.
Why he had not been leaped upon and instantly slain was too much to
understand--unless the unknown beings who had placed a collar, like a
badge of inferiority, upon the animal's neck, had so impressed him with
a dread of man that he dared not make an attack.
All zest for the hunt had departed from his being when Sidney recovered
his bow. Anger and exasperation took its place as he reflected on the
ease with which this insolent, fearless beast could continue to rob him
of his quarry. And one day, he knew, the animal's boldness would
increase to a point where a treacherous leap would restore his
undisputed mastery of all this bit of land.
"I'll kill him!" said Grenville, unexcitedly. "I'll blow him clean out
of his skin!"
He went boldly down to the rotting wreck, climbed eagerly up to the
slanted cabin, and saluted the dead man, sitting there in chains.
"Brother, I've come for the cannon," he said. "There's little else
left for you to guard."
Although the small bit of ordnance would make a load of fully fifty
pounds, Grenville determined, then and there, to make a clean sweep of
all the old hulk's remaining bits of brass and bronze not appropriated
earlier. He, therefore, heaved the cannon out through a gap in the
rotting planks, and began a hurried overhauling of everything left in
the lockers.
He had drawn out coil upon coil of ancient cordage, that broke like
wetted paper in his hands, before the largest and last of the lockers
had been emptied of its junk. This was a deep and comparatively sound
sort of box beneath a former bunk. Its interior was absolutely dark.
Unwilling to overlook the slightest metal object, Grenville got down on
his hands and knees, to peer to the farthest corner. There seemed to
be nothing remaining in the place. Nevertheless, he reached well
inside and swept his hand about the walls, till it came to a slight
obstruction.
This was a screw-head, so far as he could determine, in the planking
just to the left of the door, in one of the nearest corners. He
pressed rather heavily against the moldy woodwork, and his fist went
through, breaking away a decayed square of wood that had once been a
tiny door.
Convinced at once that a small and, heretofore, undiscovered locker, of
insignificant dimensions, had been made between the walls of two of the
usual compartments, he conceived it to be a secret hiding-place, and
strained the full length of his reaching arm, blindly to explore its
interior.
He could not touch its wall at the rear without crawling fully inside
the larger locker, and for this he felt but little relish. With a plan
worth two of that discomfiting scheme, he arose and kicked out the
paneling from the front of the narrow box.
Once more he knelt, and thrust his arm to the end of the place. His
fingers came gropingly upon a round, metallic object, wedged tightly
down between two supports of wood. He broke it out in his vigorous
way, and drew it to the light.