At this particular time Jenkins paid but little attention to the boys.
He fancied the sudden appearance of the stream of fire was simply a
portion of the horrible ceremonies, and believed the negroes’ terror to
be only simulated.
When the last black disappeared in the foliage, a noise directly
behind him caused him to look for their return from that quarter, and
his surprise can be better imagined than described when he saw Andy
standing in front of him, his wide mouth open to its fullest extent in
silent enjoyment of the complete rout.
“Where in the name of all that’s wonderful did you come from?” he
cried, and would have followed this with other questions, had not the
cook whispered hurriedly:
“Dere ain’t no time ter tork now, kase we’s boun’ ter be outer dis yere
place before dem debbils cum back. Don’ speak a word.”
With remarkable celerity, Andy cut the bonds of vines, and while
Jenkins was rubbing his arms and legs to restore the circulation, the
cook released the boys.
It was as if the sudden change of position served to restore them to
consciousness, and by the time the cook had made his arrangements for
flight, they were aware of the rescue.
Gil would have followed Jenkins’ example, and overwhelmed the negro
with questions; but the mate whispered:
“Keep quiet, now; we can hear all about it later.”
Andy’s first care was to gather up the rope-like vines and throw them
on the fire, after which he ran into the thicket, returning a few
seconds later with a large package wrapped in sailcloth.
“I’se gwine erhead, an’ you’se mus’ cum erlong mighty fas’ ef yer don’
wan’ ter see dem imps ergin.”
Without waiting for a reply, he started toward the coast to the
westward, running so rapidly, laden though he was, that the others had
quite as much as they could do to keep pace with him.
During fully half an hour the flight was continued, and just when Nelse
was on the point of saying that he could hold out no longer, however
great might be the danger, Andy halted in the midst of a palmetto
thicket.
“We’se gwine ter stay hyar fur erwhile,” he said, speaking with
difficulty, because of his heavy breathing; “but dere mus’ be a mighty
snug watch kept, kase dem debbils are boun’ ter fin’ out wha’s been
ergoin’ on.”
“Tell us how you happen to be here, and where the yacht is?” Gil asked,
as soon as it was possible to speak.
Andy’s story, interspersed as it was with threats against and
commentaries upon the voudoos, would require too great a space to be
related in his own words; but the substance was as follows:
After the boat had returned to the yacht, and the sailors reported
they could find no trace of the missing ones, Captain Mansfield was
utterly at a loss to account for the singular disappearance. He knew
there were no wild beasts on the island that could have attacked and
killed the entire party, therefore it seemed positive the mate and the
boys were detained by human beings.
To search for them in the darkness would have been useless, therefore
he intended to wait until morning, when he proposed going on shore
himself; but the coming of the gale prevented this plan from being
carried into effect.
It was absolutely necessary the yacht should be gotten under way, and,
in the absence of the mate, equally essential for the safety of all on
board, that the captain should remain in command.
Knowing they might be obliged to remain away two or three days, and
distressed at the thought of leaving the missing ones to the mercy of
those who had probably captured them, Captain Mansfield called for some
of the crew to volunteer to go on shore and prosecute a search during
his absence.
None of the sailors cared to venture, and then it was that Andy offered
his services, which were accepted the more eagerly because of all
on board, he could probably accomplish more, owing to the partial
acquaintance he had with the natives of this and the adjoining islands.
He took a small amount of food with him, and, in addition, a number of
signal rockets with which to make his whereabouts known as soon as it
should be possible for the yacht to come in shore again. A revolver and
a dozen cartridges, together with a canteen of water, made up the full
list of his stores.
It was only after the greatest difficulty that the sailors succeeded in
setting him ashore, for the sea began to run high immediately the wind
sprang up, and he remained in the thicket near the beach until sunrise,
when, almost before he was ready to commence the search, the voudoos’
chant told him where the prisoners were likely to be found.
Creeping cautiously up to where a view of the party could be had,
he realized that it would be the height of folly to make an attack
single-handed, and remained inactive, fully believing the prisoners
were to be killed, until he chanced to think of the signal rockets.
It was a poor experiment upon which to depend as a means of saving the
lives of three people; but, fortunately, it succeeded admirably, and
there was no question but that the blacks fancied the sparks of fire
had been produced by some supernatural agency.
“How did it happen that you dared venture on shore?” Gil asked, when
the story was ended. “You said nothing could tempt you to run the risk
of meeting the voudoos, and there can be no mistake about the men who
came so near killing us.”
“I’se dun gone got er charm, an’ when de sailors wouldn’t cum ershore,
dere was nuffin lef’ but fur me ter do my level bes’.”
“And it couldn’t be improved upon,” Jenkins said, as he patted the old
fellow’s woolly head.
“It was mos’ly de charm,” Andy replied, modestly.
“That had precious little to do with it,” the mate said, emphatically.
“The rocket and the man behind it did the business, and a thousand
charms wouldn’t have frightened those villains away so quickly.”
“What made you spend so much time burning the vines with which we were
tied?” Nelse asked. “They couldn’t have been used again.”
“I wasn’ erfeared ob dat, honey; but we wanter make dem debbils t’ink
dat de ghostes dun took you off, ropes an’ all.”
“And it was a good idea, Andy,” Jenkins said. “Now, if we can only keep
them at a proper distance until the yacht heaves in sight, we shall be
all right.”
“I’se gwine ter dribe de whole bilin’ offer dis yere island,” the old
man said, decidedly, much as if he was proposing a very simple piece of
business.
“How do you count on doing that?” Gil asked. “You said they could do no
end of mischief, even when hundreds of miles away?”
“I’se got de charm, honey, an’ I’se got de rockets. Ef we kin creep up
on ’em once, I’ll start annudder fiery sarpent what’ll make de voudoos
t’ink de las’ day hab cum.”
“If that could be done, we would have a chance to find out whether
the pirates’ treasure is hidden near the old palm tree,” Nelse cried,
excitedly.
“Now, honey, don’ you’se go ter speckerlatin’ erbout dat any mo’. It’s
wha’s got us all in dis yere trubble, an we’se gwine ter keep clear ob
it, ef I’se got a vote in de bizness.”
“There’s plenty of time to talk about that,” Jenkins interrupted. “The
villains are here yet; it isn’t any sure thing they can be frightened
away, and while they remain, we shan’t be able to do much of anything
but keep ourselves out of sight.”
“Isn’t it about time we thought of eating something?” Nelse asked,
suddenly. “Andy said he brought food from the yacht, and I would like
to have a bite.”
“Take it all, honey, de ole man ain’ wantin’ any now,” and the cook
unstrapped a well-filled haversack from his shoulders. “I’se had
what’ll do me fur de nex’ four days.”
“We’ll make an equal division whether there is any chance of your
growing hungry or not,” Gil said, as he began to distribute the food.
“It is necessary that we husband it as much as possible, unless we can
count on seeing father pretty soon.”
“He won’t be able to make this portion of the coast until the wind
blows itself out,” the mate replied, “and I advise that we go on short
rations to-day.”
This remark was hardly necessary, since the amount of provisions Andy
had brought did not suffice to make one satisfactory meal for the
party, and every crumb was devoured before the hunger of either was
more than half satisfied.
When the haversack of canvas had been emptied, the cook said, as he
examined the wound on Jenkins’ head:
“I’se gwine ter fix yer up a little, Marse Jenkins, an’ den we’d better
light out ob dis yere place, kase dere’s no tellin’ when dat crowd’s
cumin’ back ter see wha’ made de sparks fly.”
The mate would have objected to Andy’s spending any time on what
he considered a trifling matter; but the cook did not wait for
remonstrances. Using the water in the canteen, regardless of whether
his companions were thirsty, he first bathed the wound, and then
bandaged it properly with strips torn from Gil’s shirt, after which he
said, with an air of pride:
“I ’lows you’se gwine ter git ober dat little scratch widout much
trouble, an’ ef dere’s no objection, we oughter keep on till we light
on a better place dan dis yere bunch ob trees.”
After the generalship he had shown, there was no reason why the cook
should not take command of the party, and he assumed the leadership
by setting out at a rapid pace toward the coast, the others following
close behind him.
Not until they were within sight of the sea at a point two or three
miles from where the boys and the mate were made prisoners did he halt,
and then it was to say:
“I’se gwine ter skurmish roun’ fur ter see whar dem debbils am hidin’.”
“Why shouldn’t we go with you?” the mate asked.
“Kase dere’s no tellin’ how de charm’s gwine ter work fur all han’s,
an’ de res’ ob de crowd had better stay hyar till de ole man gits back.”
“The boys can take care of themselves for a while, and I’ll keep you
company,” Jenkins said, decidedly. “We can’t afford to run the chance
of an accident just now.”
Andy did not fancy being obliged to take a protector with him; but
the mate was determined to share all the danger, and the two plunged
into the thicket, after impressing upon Gil and Nelse the necessity of
remaining hidden during their absence.