That night as I lay in the dark, with the beach outside lit-up by the
moon, and listened to the strange noises of the forest behind the hut, I
felt over and over again ready to awaken my uncle or Ebo, so sure was I
that I could hear wild beasts on the move.
Should there be tigers, or leopards, or even wild boars, what chance
should we have if they attacked? Or it might be that one of the huge
serpents of which I had read so much might creep in at the open door.
I wanted to be brave, but somehow that night I felt horribly afraid,
even the humming buzz of some night-flying beetle making me start.
Perhaps I was over-excited, or perhaps, as my uncle would have said, I
had eaten too much. At all events, be it what it may, I could not go to
sleep, but lay there turning hot and cold and wishing it was morning.
The silence seemed so dreadful, and the idea of this being an
uninhabited island, instead of being delightful as it had felt in the
bright sunshine, now appeared horrible, and I lay thinking of our being
far from all human help, and that if our boat happened to drift away we
should be left to starve.
Of course this was all nonsense, for with such a clever savage as Ebo
and our own ingenuity and tools we could have built another boat--not
such a good one as we had arrived in, but quite strong enough to bear us
over a calm sea to one or the other of the islands where trading vessels
came.
Then I grew hot and seemed to be dripping with perspiration, and my
horror increased. What would become of us when our food and powder and
shot were gone? We should starve to death. And I began to tremble and
wish I had not come, feeling as if I would give anything to be back at
home in my old bedroom, with the gas outside in the road and the
policeman's heavy foot to be heard now and then as he went along his
beat on the look-out for burglars. I should have been ready to meet
Aunt Sophia the next morning and receive the severest scolding I had
ever had--anything to be away from where I was.
Then I tried to reason with myself and to think that even if our powder
and shot were gone we could make bows and arrows, and set traps, and as
food ran short we could always make fishing-lines and catch the scaly
creatures that swarmed amongst the rocks all round the shore. Besides
which there were cocoa-nuts in plenty, with abundance of other fruit.
I thought too of how when I was at home I should have revelled in the
idea of being in such a place, to have an uninhabited island, and such a
glorious one, far more beautiful and productive than that of Robinson
Crusoe, than whom I should be far better off, for in addition to a man
Friday I had my clever uncle for companion, guide, and protector.
At the thought of the last word I stretched out my hand to awaken him
and tell him of my horrible feeling of dread; but I drew it back for
very shame, for what was there to be afraid of?
I grew a little calmer then and lay gazing out of the open door at the
brilliant moonlight, which made some leaves glisten as if they were of
silver, and all beneath and amidst the thickets look dark and black and
soft as velvet.
Then came a strange sighing noise from the forest behind us, which made
my flesh creep as I wondered what it could be. Then there was a wild,
strange cry, and soon after a heavy crash as of something falling.
After that, as I lay bathed in perspiration and oppressed by the
terrible feeling of loneliness that seemed to increase, I fancied I
heard the pat, pat, pat, pat of some animal running along the ground,
followed by a hard breathing.
"That must be a wild beast," I said to myself; and I rose up on one
elbow to listen, meaning to get hold of my gun and load it if the sound
came nearer.
Then in a confused and troubled way I began to ask myself whether I
ought to awaken Uncle Dick and at the same time kick Ebo to make him
seize his spear and help in our defence.
But there are no big wild beasts in these islands, my uncle had said to
me several times, even expressing his doubt as to there being anything
very large in New Guinea.
"But there are great apes," I said to myself. "I know there are in
Borneo, so why should there not be others in an island like this?" and
in imagination I began to picture a hideous, great orang-outang
cautiously advancing towards our cabin.
I knew they could be very fierce and that they were tremendously strong.
Then, too, some travellers had described them as being quite giants of
six, seven, and eight feet high, and supposing that there really were no
other wild beasts in this island, undoubtedly there were these wild men
of the woods, as the Malays called them, and it was one of these that
was coming about the hut.
Of course; I knew now as well as if I had seen it. That crash I had
heard was made by one of these monsters, and that was its hard breathing
that I could hear now.
It was of no use that I tried to make myself believe that I was only
listening to Ebo breathing, and every now and then indulging in a
regular snore. No, I would not believe it, and lay with my feeling of
horror increasing each moment till I lay so helpless now, that if I had
wanted to get my gun I could not, I dared not move.
Then there was another horror in the shape of a curious lapping noise
from the sea, with a splashing and wallowing as of some great beast; and
I did know this, that horrible crocodiles came up the rivers and lived
about their mouths, going out to sea and back, and though we had seen no
river yet in this island, it was evident that this was one of the
monsters crawling about on the shore, and I seemed to see it in the
moonlight with its great coarse, scaly back, crooked legs, long stiff
tail, and hideous head with sly cruel-looking eyes, and wide, long,
teeth-armed jaws.
After a while I knew as well as could be that with its strange instinct
it would scent us out and come nearer and nearer, crawling along over
the soft sand and leaving a track that could easily be seen the next
day. I even seemed to see its footprints with the wide-spread toes, and
the long, wavy furrow ploughed by its tail.
It was all one terrible nightmare, growing worse and worse; the noise on
the shore increased, the rustling and crashing in the woods; there was a
strange humming and buzzing all around, and the breathing sounded closer
and deeper.
At last when I felt as if I could bear it no longer, and that if I did
not rouse my uncle and Ebo we should be destroyed, I tried to call out,
but my voice sounded weak and faint; there was a terrible sense of
oppression about me, and the humming and singing noise increased.
I contrived, however, to touch Ebo, and he muttered angrily and changed
his position, the noise he made in doing so waking my uncle, who started
up on one elbow as if to listen.
"He hears it all, then," I said to myself, and with a wonderful sense of
relief I knew that we should be saved.
Why did I not spring up to help him? you will say.
Ah! that I could not do, for I lay there perfectly paralysed with fright
and quite speechless, till to my horror I saw in the dim light of the
reflected moonbeams my uncle lie down again, when I made a tremendous
effort and gasped forth something or another, I cannot say what.
"Hallo!" he exclaimed. "Anything the matter, Nat?" and getting up
quickly he struck a match and lit a little wax taper that he always
carried in the brass match-box, part of which formed a stick.
He was kneeling by my side directly and had hold of my hand, when at his
touch my senses seemed to come back to me.
"Quick!--the guns!" I panted; "wild beasts!--a crocodile, an ape,
uncle. I have been hearing them come."
"Nonsense! my boy," he said, smiling.
"No, no; it is no nonsense, uncle. Quick!--the guns!"
"No, my dear boy, it is nonsense. There are no noxious or dangerous
beasts here. You are quite safe from them. You have been dreaming,
Nat."
"I've not been asleep," I said piteously.
"Haven't you, my lad?" he said, with one hand on my brow and the other
on my wrist; "then you have been fancying all these troubles. Nat, my
boy, you have got a touch of fever. I'm very glad you woke me when you
did."
"Fever, uncle?" I gasped, as the horror of my situation increased, and
like a flash came the idea of being ill out in that wilderness, away
from all human help and comfort; and, ludicrous is it may sound, I
forgot all about Uncle Dick, and began to think of Dr Portly, who had a
big brass plate upon his door in the Clapham Road.
"Yes, my boy, a touch of fever, but we'll soon talk to him, Nat; we'll
nip him in the bud. A stitch in time saves nine. Now you shall see
what's in that little flat tin box I brought. I saw you stare at it
when I packed up."
"I thought it was preserving things, uncle," I said.
"So it is, my boy, full of preserving things, one of which you shall
soon have for a dose. I hope you like bitters, Nat?"
He laughed so pleasantly that he seemed to give me courage, but I
glanced in a frightened way at the opening as I said that I did not much
mind.
He saw my glance, and went outside with a cup in his hand, to come back
in a few minutes with it full of water from a pool close by.
"No wild beasts about, Nat, my boy," he said merrily. "They were only
fever phantoms."
"But I have not been to sleep, uncle," I protested.
"Sign that you are ill, Nat, because generally you drop off in an
instant and sleep soundly for hours. There are no wild beasts, my boy,
in these islands."
"But I'm sure I heard a great ape breathing hard, and it broke off a
great branch in the forest."
"And I'm sure, Nat, that you heard Ebo snoring; and as to the branch
breaking, you heard, I dare say, a dead one fall. They are always
falling in these old forests. We don't notice the noise in the day,
when the birds are singing, but in the night everything sounds
wonderfully clear."
"But I'm certain I heard a crocodile crawling up out of the sea, and
creeping towards the hut."
"And I'm certain you did not, my dear boy. We have no muddy tidal river
here for them to frequent. It was all fever-born, Nat, my boy; believe
me."
All the while he was talking I saw that he was busy getting something
ready. First he put a little white powder in a glass, then he poured a
few drops of something over it, and filled it up with water, stirring it
with a little bit of glass rod before kneeling down by me.
"There, Nat," he said kindly, "drink that off."
"What is it, uncle?" I said, taking the glass with hot and trembling
hand.
"A preserving thing, my boy. One of the greatest blessings ever
discovered for a traveller. It is quinine, Nat, fever's deadliest
enemy. Down with it at once."
The stuff was intensely bitter, but my mouth was so hot and parched, and
the water with it so cool and pleasant, that I quite enjoyed it, and
drew a deep breath.
"There, now, lie down again, my boy, and be off to sleep. Don't fill
your head full of foolish imaginings, Nat. There is nothing to fear
from wild beasts here."
"But am I going to be very ill, uncle?"
"No, certainly not. You will sleep after that till three or four hours
past sunrise, and then you will waken, feeling a little weak, perhaps,
but in other respects all right. Perhaps it will come back again, and
if it does we will rout it out once more with some quinine. Why, Nat,
I've had dozens of such attacks."
I lay back, feeling more at rest, and satisfied that uncle was right
about the beasts, for there was no sound now to trouble me; only the
lapping of the water, which seemed to be only the waves now beating
softly upon the sand, while the heavy breathing was certainly Ebo's,
that gentleman never having moved since I touched him.
Then I saw my uncle shut up his little tin case and replace it in the
chest, put out the wax taper, and lie down upon his couch of dry grass,
yawning slightly, and then lying gazing out of the open door, for I
could see his eyes shine.
But by degrees the faintly lit-up hut, with its bamboos and roof, its
chests, guns, and Ebo's spear, all seemed to grow indistinct, and then
all was restful peace.