While Mr. Jenkins slept, the fantastical worship in the inner cave was
brought to a close; the party separated, each man going in a different
direction across the island, as if to ascertain the general condition
of affairs, and before they were reunited, the sun had risen.
The wind continued from the same quarter with unabated fury, and one
needed only to see the trees bending before the blast to understand
that the _Day Dream_ could not come to an anchorage near that portion
of the coast for some time to come.
The prisoners were not disturbed until nearly two hours after daybreak,
and then the mate was brought to his feet very suddenly by a vicious
kick from a burly negro, who had evidently been selected to act the
part of guard.
Just for an instant Jenkins was disposed to show fight; but before he
could do anything so rash, the thought of the consequences prevented
him from raising his hands.
The situation was sufficiently grave without his making it worse by a
useless show of resistance.
“Get up, lads!” he cried, wishing to arouse his companions before the
brutal guard could deal them a blow, and the boys sprang to their feet
instantly, not understanding where they were for several seconds, and
then, as the unpleasant truth came slowly back to them, Gil asked:
“What’s going on now?”
“I don’t know, my boy; but this dark-complexioned gentleman has been
trying his toes on my ribs in such an energetic fashion that I fancy we
are to make some kind of a move. Whatever happens, keep close to me,
and don’t provoke the crowd by turning rusty when we’re where we can’t
help ourselves.”
“How is the weather?” Nelse asked.
“About the same as when we arrived here. There’s no chance of seeing
the yacht to-day.”
This brief conversation was interrupted by the remainder of the black
party, who now came from the outside, and the prisoners were made to
understand by signs that they were to leave the cave.
With the boys on either side of him, Jenkins marched out, the huge
black walking close behind the three, and the others clustered around
in a manner which precluded any possibility of an escape.
The captors were evidently making their way back to the sea once more,
and to both Gil and Nelse this fact was in some slight degree pleasing,
since it seemed to bring them nearer the _Day Dream_.
“How is your head?” Gil asked, when they had walked a short distance in
silence.
“It doesn’t feel particularly comfortable; but I reckon it’ll be all
right after a while.”
“If we could bathe it, you would look better. That bloody handkerchief
and the matted hair gives you the appearance of a veritable pirate.”
“I don’t feel like one, at all events,” Mr. Jenkins replied, with a
laugh. “Just now I’m more of a cannibal than anything else, for it
seems as if I could eat a donkey and then look over my shoulder for the
rider.”
“Do you suppose they intend to starve us?”
“That’s a hard question to answer. It isn’t likely they’ll take any too
good care of us, and we stand a chance of going hungry for some time to
come.”
“Such a thing wouldn’t trouble me, providing I could see a way out of
this scrape,” Nelse said, with a long-drawn sigh. “If the yacht can’t
come to an anchor while the wind is so strong, we needn’t expect help
to-day.”
“There’ll be a change in the weather when the sun sets,” the mate
replied, encouragingly; but at the same time he did not believe his own
statement.
The very old negro was evidently the chief of the party, and he led
them through a narrow path, cut amid the dense tangle of foliage, until
they arrived at the very spot where the prisoners had witnessed the
dance around the pot while hidden among the trees.
Here they were met by the two aged and highly-decorated blacks, who had
acted as masters of the ceremony on the previous evening.
All the repulsive-looking crowd evidently understood that they were
in no immediate danger of being hunted out by those interested in the
prisoners, for they moved with the utmost deliberation.
“The scoundrels know our shipmates can’t get here to-day, and are
going to make the most out of the performance, whatever it may be,”
Jenkins said, angrily, as two of the men began to lash him securely to
a tree in such a manner that he could do no more than turn his head
from side to side.
The boys were fastened in the same fashion, and so near together that
it was possible for them to hear each other when speaking in a low tone
of voice.
After the prisoners were thus disposed of, the blacks began to prepare
breakfast by roasting over a bed of coals fifteen or twenty small
animals, which resembled rabbits, the three leaders retiring to the
depths of the thicket as if for consultation while this work was being
done.
The cooks had not even taken the trouble to dress the game; but the
odor of the roasting flesh was so appetizing, and the prisoners were
so hungry, that all three waited with the liveliest impatience for the
meal to be made ready.
“I’m certain I can eat a whole rabbit; but I don’t suppose we’ll
be allowed to have as much as we want,” Nelse said, watching the
operations eagerly.
“We had better not count on regularly filling ourselves up,” Jenkins
replied, grimly, as a very unpleasant suspicion began to creep into his
mind.
When the feast was prepared, the old men were summoned, the remainder
of the party standing at a respectful distance until they had satisfied
their hunger, and then all hands set about devouring the food in a
literally savage fashion.
Holding it in their hands and smearing themselves with fat and blood,
until their black faces looked even more hideous than before, the men
gorged themselves, crunching the smaller bones as dogs would have done,
and only when the last morsel had disappeared did they cease.
Meanwhile, the prisoners could do no more than gaze at the revolting
spectacle, which, fortunately, partially caused them to forget their
hunger, and not a word was spoken until Jenkins, seeing that his
companions were rapidly giving way to despair, tried to arouse them.
“It’s no very great hardship to go hungry for twenty-four, or even
forty-eight hours,” he said, cheerily. “If we think of eating, it’ll
only make matters worse, so let’s sheer off on some other tack.”
“That is not so easily done,” Nelse replied, gloomily.
“I don’t know about it. Look around and see what an odd sort of a
forest this is, compared to such as we have at home.”
“We’ve had time to be pretty well acquainted with it since landing
yesterday. There doesn’t seem to be anything strange here, except it is
the big palm tree near where the old scoundrels are sitting. That----”
Gil would have started to his feet in surprise, had it not been for the
bonds, as he cried:
“It is the very tree we were hunting for! There are none others as
tall, and it’s surely old enough to have served as a landmark when our
chart was made.”
“I believe you are right, my boy,” the mate said, after a short pause.
“It would be strange if these villains have shown us just what we
wanted to find.”
“I can’t see that it will do us any good, even if we knew a big
pile of gold was absolutely buried in the immediate vicinity,” Nelse
replied, grumblingly; but at the same time he continued to gaze at the
palm, and it could be seen that, for the moment, the pangs of hunger
were forgotten.
The possibility of their having finally arrived at the desired place,
through no inclination or volition of their own, was sufficient to
furnish them with a fruitful topic of conversation, and but little
attention was paid to the blacks until the departure of several of the
younger men caused Gil to ask:
“Where do you suppose they are going?”
“Most likely to watch out for the yacht. It isn’t certain your father
won’t make an attempt to put in here in search of us, although I don’t
think one of our boats could land, and they want to make sure of not
being interrupted.”
During the next half-hour the negroes remained idle, lounging near the
scene of the feast, and then the messengers returned.
Whatever report they made must have been satisfactory, for immediately
the fire was rebuilt, the pot slung on two crotched sticks, and the old
fellows took up their station nearby, as if to repeat the mummery of
the previous evening.
Now the prisoners understood that they were to take some part in the
ceremony, for three of the men stood directly in front of them, while
the priests began once more the doleful chant.
“They are going to kill us,” Nelse cried, in alarm, but forced to
remain motionless before the blacks, each of whom held a short-bladed
knife in his hands.
Mr. Jenkins no longer attempted to cheer his companions. He believed,
as Nelse did, and with good reason.
While the old men sang, those who had evidently been selected as
executioners advanced slowly, brandishing their weapons, and making
gestures, while the remainder of the party stood nearby, gazing
intently, as if at some fascinating spectacle.
Neither of the prisoners spoke. Death seemed so close at hand that
the numbness of despair was upon them, and each watched the gleaming
circles of steel as the knives came slowly toward them.
When the three men were not more than five feet away from him, Gil
fancied he heard a slight noise directly in the rear, as if some one
was lighting a match; but since none of the blacks paid any attention
to it, he fancied he was mistaken, and tried to prepare himself in some
slight degree for the supreme moment.
Now the circle of spectators grew smaller; the old men forced their way
through, that they also might witness what was possibly one of their
fiendish rites, and the gleaming steel almost touched the victims.
The two boys closed their eyes that they should not see the deadly blow
when it was delivered, and Jenkins believed he had not many seconds
to live, when a singular, hissing noise was heard directly behind the
helpless ones.
Instantly it seemed that a shaft of fire came from the foliage, with a
scream as of some living creature.
Opening their eyes suddenly, the boys saw this thing of flame tear its
way through the crowd, throwing sparks right and left, and striking two
of the blacks with sufficient force to hurl them to the ground.
The negroes fled with loud yells of terror, as the “thing,” apparently
caught by the foliage, continued to send forth showers of flame, and
before the last man disappeared, both Gil and Nelse had fainted.
The strain upon them had been too great, and over-taxed nature gave way
beneath it.