AMBITIOUS PLANS
Grenville awoke with a brilliant idea, born in his brain as he slept.
It was not concerned with the documents found in the old brass
receptacle, but entirely with the tiger. He knew how to fashion a fuse.
The creepers had answered this latest need, with their bark so readily
hollowed. He had burned up yards of the drying stuff with the core
removed, all of it shrunk and twisted tight, like long coils of
vegetable tubing. He had only to fill it with his powder while green,
and then let it dry in the sun.
He could likewise fill the useless cylinder, wrap it about to increase
its resistance to the powder--and thereby render its explosion far more
violent. If, after that, a chance were presented to ignite it under
the tiger----
It was possible always, he confessed, the tiger might prove unwilling.
However, both the cannon and bomb should be immediately prepared.
There could be no peace upon the island while the brute remained alive.
All thoughts of the cipher were postponed for evening recreation. The
day's work began after breakfast in preparing large quantities of
powder.
At this Elaine assisted. She was glad of any employment. No less in
her veins than in Grenville's the promptings of being in the primitive
were daily surging stronger. Like himself, she was hungry for meat;
and while she had no thoughts of turning Amazon herself, she felt an
increasing interest in all that Grenville was attempting in his task of
coping with nature.
Meanwhile Sidney was daily assuming a wild and unkempt aspect that he
could not possibly avoid. His beard was an unbecoming stubble that he
was powerless to shave; his hair was uncombed and a trifle long; his
clothing was not without its rents. But what an active, muscular being
he appeared, as he moved about at his work! He seemed so thoroughly
fearless, so competent and at home with naked Nature. His
thoughtfulness, moreover, had no limits, and neither had his cheer. He
had made no further disquieting advances, but seemed rather to have
forgotten, utterly, the lawless emotions to which he had one day given
way.
This day it was he started the fires to bake his vessels of clay. They
were all sufficiently dry for the purpose, and, huddled together, a bit
removed, in a rudely constructed furnace made of rock, were piled about
with abundant fuel to provide an even heat.
The morning was sped between the various duties. Some ten or more
pounds of powder Grenville finally stored in his cave. The labor of
grinding and mixing had undergone many interruptions while he attended
the fire about his jugs. He finally fetched some creepers from the
growth and, stripping out the pliable cores, poured powder in several
of the hollow coverings, bound them together, here and there, with
fibers, and placed them out on the rocks to dry.
With the withes thus provided to his hand, the cannon was bound upon
the log he had hollowed a bit to receive it. This he knew to be crude
and, perhaps, even quite insufficient, but the gun was, in any event,
far too unwieldy for use against the tiger, unless the brute should
deliberately pose as a target, in the clearing down below.
That mid-day the porcupine once more volunteered for dinner. His
services were accepted. Grenville dispatched him with a club--and
skinned him in the thicket. He was far too considerate of a woman's
sensibilities to fetch the creature into camp, with his arsenal of
spears still upon him. But the task of removing the hedgehog's hide
was amazingly difficult.
Aware of two important facts--namely, that meat too freshly cooked is
certain to be tough, while even fresh meat for three hours wrapped in
paw-paw leaves becomes incredibly tender, Grenville lost no time, when
the skinning was done, in thoroughly swaddling his "game." He had
carved it up for more convenient handling. When he finally brought it
for Elaine to see, it looked decidedly attractive.
"I shall save some scraps for bait," he said. "To-morrow we'll try for
fish."
What with carving a number of tough, wooden hooks, preparing some line
from various fibers, and supplying new fuel to the flames that were
firing his needed potteries, his remaining hours were full.
At length, in preparation for their dinner of meat, he went below, dug
a hole somewhat laboriously in the sand and earth of the clearing, and
started another brisk fire in the hollow thus created, Elaine tossing
down a few glowing twigs for the purpose.
And how brave she looked, he paused to note, as she came to the brink
to be of this much assistance! How beautiful she was--and how delicate
she seemed, to be cast into such conditions! Despite her sturdiness of
heart and limb, she had always been tenderly reared. How far might she
go, enduring this life, reduced to savagery?
These were thoughts that had come and been banished from his mind
innumerable times. There was nothing he could do to alter or even
greatly alleviate the hardships by which she was surrounded. Her
aloofness from personal contact with himself, even her constant
suspicions of his motives, and her lingering indignation for what he
had done, he felt every hour of the day. But he could not have begged
her forgiveness if he would--and would not have done so if he could.
How long would it last, he asked himself--and what would be the end?
Would no ship ever come--or how long might it be till succor finally
arrived? Would a search be made for the missing boat that had gone to
the bottom of the sea? Or, before this could happen, would smaller
craft arrive--the strange, swift craft of these eastern waters, manned
by fanatical outlaws, pirates, or even the wild, head-hunting Dyaks,
who had probably been here before?
When he finally placed his meat in the pit, where the fire had burned
down to glowing embers, his mind was filled with the many plans he was
impatient to materialize without another half hour's delay. He covered
the leaf-and-clay-wrapped dinner, first with portions of the coals and
heated ashes, and then with all the sand he had dug to make his natural
oven, after which he returned to the terrace.
Neither the process of cooking, nor that of firing his earthenware
could be hastened now by Grenville's presence.. He saw that his
pottery furnace was properly supplied with fuel, and then sat down
where Elaine was busily plaiting a flat sort of mat with withes she had
somehow split to half their former size, and there he began to carve at
some slender branches of wood he had brought from down below.
"What are you making?" he presently asked, as he watched her nimble
fingers at their task.
"A platter for the meat," she told him, briefly. "And what are your
sticks to become?"
"Forks for the same. I hope we shall need no knives.... I must soon
find time to dig about and, perhaps, unearth some yams. They are not
so good as potatoes, but they answer at a pinch."
"You have planned so many things to accomplish," she said. "Do you
think you shall ever have the time?"
"Can't tell, but meantime I thoroughly enjoy this wresting an existence
from more or less stubborn conditions. Just as soon as I eliminate the
tiger I shall melt up my pieces of metal to make a number of tools."
Elaine looked up at the man in wonder, but not incredulously.
"What perfect confidence you seem to have in your ability to accomplish
difficult things."
His utterance sank a tone lower as he answered:
"What I say I'll do--I'll do. What I say I'll have--I'll have."
It was the first word he had spoken since their coming to the island
that might have been construed as a survival of the feelings he had
demonstrated on the steamer.
Elaine felt her whole being suddenly burn with strange excitement. She
felt the underlying significance of his speech, and her soul was
instantly bristling with defiance.
His words went too deep and were uttered too gravely for any mere idle
boasting. She had already seen, and partially acknowledged, the power
that lay in this strong man's hands to compel his desired ends. She
felt this potency emanating from him now--and resented the fact that
she herself had been as much selected as the tiger for his ultimate
conquering.
She was angry again on the instant, ready to fight like a very little
demon, should he dare so much as lay a finger on her hand. She
resolved anew that, though a hundred years should pass before they two
escaped this island exile, not the tiniest bud of answering love should
ever sprout in her breast.
For the past few days she had felt a new sense of security and ease.
The man with whom she was working out this singular and intimate
existence had made no sign of renewing his advances, had seemed to
forget he had ever broached the subject of his passion, and had been a
most agreeable companion, cheerful, resourceful, and courageous to the
last degree.
Now that she knew what unworthy thoughts still lingered beneath the
surface of his calm, indifferent demeanor, not even their earlier
friendship seemed to her possible again--and for this she was
disappointed and annoyed.
Her glance had fallen instantly back to her work. That her color
burned up, to the tips of her ears for Grenville to see and, perhaps,
enjoy, she felt with added irritation. But she would not confess, by
word or deed, she understood the meaning of his speech.
When she spoke she employed a quiet and common-place tone of voice, and
returned to impersonal subjects.
"I can understand," she said, "how you might possibly shoot the tiger,
but I thought one needed furnaces, tall chimneys, and things, to melt
up bronze and brass."
"Dead right," he answered, readily. "You see, you've got such a grasp
on things that I never cease to be surprised--and delighted. I've
engaged quite a chimney already."
She forced herself to continue the conversation, if only by way of
ignoring the personal element of his answer.
"Engaged a chimney?"
"You'll see about that, later. If getting the tiger were only half as
easy as some of the other things I expect to accomplish, I'd certainly
be tickled clean to death."
She felt--she almost knew, indeed---that she and her love were
classified among the things he expected to "accomplish" so easily at
last, and her hot resentment burned hotter. She was tempted to flash
out her wildest cry of the loathing--the bitter, eternal loathing--his
words had begotten in her bosom. She was tempted again to a desperate
wish that the tiger might rend him in pieces--as _she_ would do if ever
he touched her again. But she dared not trust herself to speak, or
even to show, by the slightest sign, that his threat was comprehended.
She clung in desperation to the subject she felt to be safe.
"Then--you do think the tiger dangerous--hard, at least, to kill?"
"Well, I wouldn't call him exactly plum pudding and gravy."
"Your cannon would kill him, though, of course?"
"If he'd pose in front of the muzzle, a rod or so away."
A cold chill crept along her nerves at thoughts of the savage animal
she herself had twice encountered. She wondered just what Grenville's
method would be--in overcoming some of the things he had vowed to
conquer.
"You hardly expect to shoot the creature, then, after all?"
He held up the fork he was carving, for critical examination.
"I'm rather inclined to favor the plan of leaving a bait in the jungle,
and letting go a bomb when he comes to dine."
Her natural concern for the man's own safety could not be long expelled.
"How shall you know when he comes?" she inquired, and she dared look up
as before.
Grenville continued to bend his gaze on his labor.
"I expect to hang around and see."
A sudden fear and sinking of the vitals seized her, unaware.
"But--doesn't a tiger usually feed at night?"
"His club hours are usually rather late, I believe."
"And you'll wait around for him to come in the dark?"
"What else can I do? Can't expect him to 'phone me he's arrived."
"Oh!" she said, impulsively, "couldn't we build a wall of stone around
enough of the fruit for just ourselves? I could help at that. I'd do
so gladly!"
If an exquisite thrill shot directly to the deeps of Grenville's
nature--a thrill aroused by her courage, her generous spirit, her
honest and helpful sympathy--he permitted himself to make no sign.
Also, he took no fulsome flattery to his soul. But he pictured her
forth, with bleeding hands, and torn and grimy garments, as she rolled
and carried great stones to the brink, to supply him with blocks for a
wall; and his spirit was wondrously glad to think he had made no error
of judgment in appraising her character.
That all she could do she would do, as mere assistance--do for anyone
else in a similar situation, he comprehended fully. But he felt not a
whit less exultant for the knowledge of the fact. She was never for a
moment a mere useless dependent. She was daily, aye, hourly, assisting
in his wholly unequal combat for their lives, and this was a joy to his
heart.
But he spoke with his usual bluntness, and without a single hint of
sympathy in all she had eagerly suggested.
"Wholly impractical scheme. I've thought of a dozen just as poor."
Elaine was instantly sorry she had proffered him her help. She placed
a withe between her teeth, bit through it neatly, and began to divide
it with her fingers.
"Here, don't do that. You'll spoil your teeth," said Grenville,
brusquely. "I'll split you enough for half a day."
She made no reply as he went at the withes and split them with skillful
ease, but she hoped he could feel, through some sensitive chord, how
intensely she disliked him.
He could not. "I've been thinking," he said, "I may be obliged to make
a loom to weave these fibers into some sort of cloth for garments. May
need them before we get away."
Elaine once more responded, in her honest, impulsive manner.
"I could knit some things, I'm sure, if you'd cut me a pair of needles."
"Cut 'em to-night," he answered. "That meat must be done, and my
potteries need attention."
He dropped in her lap the forks he had roughly completed, and strode
away to his fire.