WE FIND A NEW ABODE, AND ZALEE DEPARTS TO SEEK SUCCOUR.
The place was indeed desolate! I could not believe the evidence of my
eyes. The uprights of our pleasant home were still charred and smoking;
the palm board floor was red and glowing, and in some places it had
fallen through. There was no sign of any of the utensils, no sign of the
hammocks or the articles that we had fashioned to make life supportable
in this tropic desert. A strange combination of words, but home is where
the heart is. Where my heart was at that moment I did not know, but I
knew that the place where it was not, was a desert to me.
Imagine if you can the feelings to which I became at once a prey! My
imagination ran riot. I thought of Cynthia, fallen, perhaps, into
hostile hands, carried away by some terrible barbarians, forced because
of her beauty to become a priestess; put to death if she refused. I did
not forget the little dagger that I had given her, and I hoped that she
would not forget it if the time should come. _If the time should come!_
I turned sick at the thought. I must have shown my feelings in my face.
"Oh, it may not be so bad," said the Smith. "While there's life there's
hope, you know."
"Do you call _that_ life?" I answered; pointing to the smoking ruins.
I threw myself upon the ground. I seemed to have lost my senses. I had
no thought for my own safety. The same hostile hand which burned the
house might have made us prisoners again, but that thought never came
to me until the Smith suggested it. Even then I cared little. If Cynthia
was lost to me, it mattered not what became of me.
"The only place for us," said the Smith, "is the cave."
"That cave again! I can not go there! Do not ask it," I exclaimed.
"We must," said the Smith, "until we find out something about your
friends, and whether they are really mur----"
"Oh, do not----" I said, putting my hands before my eyes.
"Well, better come with me," said the Smith. I arose, and he led me like
a blind man down the path toward the cave. We went through the passage
as of old and reached the lattice chamber. Here we found traces of late
occupancy. There was some food placed in an accessible spot, and I also
found upon the floor a little handkerchief of Cynthia's. This I seized
like a frantic man, and pressed to my heart and devoured with kisses.
The Smith smiled, but I cared nothing.
"Just fancy me kissin' the missis's handkerchief!" said he. "Wouldn't
she laugh!"
Possibly Cynthia would have laughed, too, but I was so miserable that
just to press her handkerchief to my lips gave me a little spark of
comfort.
We were famished, and we ate some of the food and left some for another
time. At least, the Smith did so. I took what he gave me, and he put the
rest on a jutting ledge of rock. We were both tired with the excitement
and long and wakeful night, and, following the Smith's example, I lay
down and soon forgot my misery in dreams--heavy sleep, rather, for I was
too tired to dream. We slept the sleep of exhaustion. I judged it to be
about six o'clock in the evening when I turned over. The Smith was still
breathing heavily. As I turned back to rest my tired head again,
something bright caught my eye. I put out my hand to grasp the tiny
thing. I could not really believe that I was awake. "I am dreaming,"
said I to myself, and pinched my arm to awake myself. But no! I was
awake, and there in my hand lay the little gold locket, half open, and
my own face peeped through the opening. I sat and thought. What could
this mean? Had some one found the locket down there in the stream? Yes,
undoubtedly some one had found it. Who could that some one be? My heart
told me at once. I had found Cynthia's handkerchief in that very spot.
She had, perhaps, laid down there to sleep. At all events, she had been
there not long before. She it must have been who had dropped them. She
it was who at some moment, unknown to the rest of the camp, had stolen
away and had fished my phiz out of the little stream. The thought gave
me courage. I drank some water from one of our pails standing near and
lay down to sleep again, the locket held close to my cheek. I awoke to
find some one standing in the room. The bright moonlight streamed in
through the lattice of leaves, and I recognised the tall slight form of
the Haitien, Zalee.
He bowed to me respectfully, and then went and laid his finger on the
shoulder of the Smith. The Smith, who had slept certainly for the best
part of fourteen hours, rolled over and stood at once upon his feet.
"Now bring on your cannibals!" said he. "I feel like a fighting cock."
Zalee looked anxiously around upon the floor. I thought that I knew what
he was searching for, but I did not help him out. Perhaps she had
discovered her loss, and had sent him for the locket. The Haitien shook
his head with a look as if much disappointed. Then he took up the pail,
beckoned to me to come, and together the Smith and I left the cave,
following in Zalee's footsteps. I noticed that Zalee did not seem at all
surprised at the presence of the Smith. Then I argued that he had
undoubtedly seen him before, at the time when he was unseen by us, and
was to us a weird and ghostly personality.
We followed docilely in the footsteps of Zalee. He guided us up the hill
and along the path that led to the ruins of the house. He stopped a
moment by the remains of our home and shook his head, then stepped
briskly onward.
Zalee walked very quickly. We could hardly keep pace with him. I argued
that he wished to be far from the place before morning. There was little
of incident in our trip. The same sweet odours filled the air, but as we
got farther away from the coast we felt the breeze less, and finally
there was none. Now a gentle rain began to fall, and the wood was thick
with a warm steam, which filled our eyes and nostrils and almost blinded
us. The shadows in the wood were dark, and the great trees seen through
the mist seemed like giants standing here and there to bar the way. We
were all the time ascending, which made the journey a tiresome one.
Finally we came out upon a plateau, and here it was bare of trees. We
could look over the lower hills and the treetops where our house had
been. We marked its situation by the column of smoke which rose steadily
upward straight into the air. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it
came, the mist gradually cleared away, the moon had a chance to shine
out, and we stood for a moment looking downward across the waters of the
indentation that we called the bay and out to sea. Then Zalee led us
back to a thick fringe of trees which skirted the lower hill. As we
turned to face it I saw the great citadel of Christophe, the grim and
ghastly La Ferriere, loom out upon its mountain prominence, and I
shuddered as I looked, for we were at least six miles nearer than we had
been at the cave. Off to the left there was a steep precipice, and over
this, in the uncertain light, I saw that many large birds hovered and
swept downward.
I looked inquiringly at the Smith.
"The precipice of the Grand Boucan," said he.
I had heard of this place. So that was where King Henry of the North
flung his prisoners and servants when they did not succeed in pleasing
him! I almost fancied that at that very moment I could see some poor
wretch being hurled into the abyss which led to eternity. It was like a
dreadful nightmare, and I turned away.
"I pray that we shall never get any nearer to that black brute!" said I.
Zalee put his finger on his lip and beckoned us to follow him. We again
took up our march. As we were nearing the next steep rise, suddenly he
put his hand on my shoulder and forced me down among the weeds and
underbrush. The Smith did as he saw us do. In a few minutes there passed
by us three tall men, griffe in shade. They carried enormous clubs, the
most deadly bludgeons that I had ever seen. They were dressed in some
light cloth, tied across their shoulders, and otherwise but for a clout
were quite naked. They had large gold hoops in their ears, and upon the
hand of each there glittered a thick silver ring.
"The body guard of the King," whispered the Smith. "I once saw one as a
captive. I remember the dress."
The men plunged down the hill with great strides. They carried their
clubs with ease, and swung them in their hands as they walked. They
moved with light step and fast, and were soon lost among the lower
trees.
I thanked Heaven that we had managed to lie hid without being seen. On
looking back, I saw that we had come past well-tilled fields, and that
there were some native huts in the distance, and I wondered again why we
had never seen any one until the night of the vaudoux dance. I supposed
that what the Smith said must be true, and that the natives were afraid
of the cave, and so did not approach the vicinity of it. I had not
noticed the cultivated land as we passed it by, because of the fog
which had been so thick. Also I was in such a state of nervous tension
that I could think of nothing but when we should reach our little party.
I almost dreaded the arrival, for I had become so inured to
disappointments that I feared what each day and hour might have in store
for us.
And now I saw that we were approaching a steeper slope than any which
had preceded it. In fact, we were confronted by a wall of rock, upon
whose summit grew some trees, and at whose base a fringe of foliage
dimly showed itself. As we approached these lower trees I saw that they
were of stupendous size, and spread their enormous roots to a great
distance. It was like a forest of giants, and one had to be careful in
walking that he did not stumble over the great ridges which were made by
the roots, and seriously hurt himself.
We passed over a short sort of stubble, following Zalee as he skirted
round among the trees. At last he approached near to the face of the
rock, where grew an enormous mahogany. To all appearance its bark was
close to the wall, but as we drew nearer I saw him slip behind it. The
moonlight was very bright, but I thought for a moment that we had lost
him. I, too, slipped behind the tree, however, motioning the Smith to
follow me close, and there I found, facing me, a cavity in the rock. I
involuntarily drew back.
"Another cave!" exclaimed I. Again Zalee's cold fingers closed on mine
as in the old days when first we landed. I took the Smith's hand in
mine, and together we walked in a line through a black interior. I felt
that we were ascending still, but I could see nothing. All that I could
do was to trust to Zalee. Up, up, up, we went, until I felt that I could
not drag one weary foot after the other; then we mounted a few natural
steps and came out upon a level. I felt that we were taking a sharp turn
to the left. The night breezes blew upon my face, and I began to see the
stars overhead as we emerged from the passage upon an open plateau. It
was a broad terrace of stone, half of it covered as with a roof by an
overhanging rock, the rest bare of root or shrub.
A wonderful view met my eye, and I drank it in with appreciative sighs,
while wondering if Cynthia were near me. I walked to the edge of the
plateau and looked downward. There was a sheer precipice below me of
perhaps five hundred feet. The plateau stood out from the rock behind
it, whose sides were also precipitous, rising at the back a lofty wall
of stone to the height of a thousand feet or more. Nature had planted a
great cube in front of the cliff, and we were upon the top of it. There
was, apparently, no way of access or of egress except by the route over
which we had come. I stood looking out over the distant water bathed in
the moonlight, taking in the bird's-eye view, and wondering just where
our cave and camp had stood. I walked to the right a distance perhaps of
two hundred feet, and there I saw again those birds of evil swooping
downward, and low in the valley beneath them and me I noticed some white
specks glistening in the moonlight. The bones of Christophe's victims! I
gazed upward and caught sight of a corner of the wall of the great
citadel, and I turned away my eyes with the dreadful apprehension that
we might be forced some day to make its nearer acquaintance.
It was a remarkable platform, this upon which I stood. I could see that
there was no way of scaling the rock from below, as I had noticed that
the precipice was undercut slightly at the base--a characteristic of
many of the rocks of the island--thus giving no vantage ground for the
foot. The rock above us sloped outward in the same manner over our
heads. To climb it would be an impossibility, and I felt that I stood
upon a pillar of rock isolated from the world. While I was musing thus,
Zalee touched me upon the arm. He beckoned also the Smith, and we
followed. We returned through the short passage. As we went he breathed
an occasional "Hist!" and stooped and laid his ear to the ground. I saw
him so when once I struck a light. Hearing nothing, he arose and
proceeded, we following. Suddenly we heard the sound of feet, and I felt
his hand draw me suddenly downward. I fell to the ground, whispering a
caution to the Smith as I did so. There was a faint flicker as of the
light of a torch. And as I lay there I heard footsteps passing the end
of the passage, and voices busily talking. Why the men did not turn into
the passage where we were in hiding could only be accounted for by
supposing that there were many such passages leading out of the grand
one, and that the secret of the plateau was not known to others beside
the Haitien.
As soon as the sound of the footsteps had died away in the distance,
Zalee arose and went into the outer tunnel. There he listened intently.
When satisfied that no one was coming, and that the strangers were gone,
he returned to our first passage and struck a light.
I then saw lying upon the ground a tall, thin stone, which he motioned
to the Smith and me to help him raise. This we did without much trouble,
and we found that it fitted the opening into the passage almost
perfectly--at all events, so well as not to be considered different from
the other irregularities that I had noticed all along the walls. The
Haitien then turned us about. He now lighted a small torch, and, Zalee
preceding us, we were soon upon the terrace again. I tried to ask for
Cynthia, but Zalee only shook his head, laid it upon his hand as if
sleepy, and advised us to rest, as the morning would soon break. This he
did by pointing to the east and then to the moon, which was disappearing
behind the Grand Boucan. I saw that argument was useless, especially as
we could communicate only by signs, so we retreated to the wall far back
under the overhanging rock, and were soon asleep. I awoke to find the
sun streaming into my eyes and to hear a voice saying anxiously:
"Where is Uncle, Mr. Jones?"
I sat up and opened my eyes, to see Cynthia standing before me. She was
in the old blue dungaree dress, and stood silhouetted against the red
sun of the morning like a young goddess.
I shook my head sadly.
"I do not know," said I.
I thought that this would make trouble, and it did.
"Do you mean to say that you have left that old man alone down there?"
"I mean to say nothing," returned I, "until you speak to me more
properly."
I found that I had said the right thing. You can't always be too
subservient to a young woman, especially the woman who knows how you
love her. She'll turn and rend you when you least expect it.
She spoke more humbly now:
"I only meant to ask where Uncle is, Mr. Jones."
"I haven't the least idea," said I. "We waited for him on the shore and
in the woods. Then we thought he had returned to the house, and we made
for that. When we arrived there----"
"Yes, I know," said she. "Zalee did it."
"What! fired the house?"
"Yes. He said that there was fighting down the coast, and that if the
people came our way we would not be safe. So he fired the house so that
it would look as if an enemy did it, and he took us to the cave
where----"
"Where you lost your handkerchief," said I.
She blushed brightly.
"Oh, did you find it, Mr. Jones?"
"Yes," said I, "I found it," and I put the little white thing into her
hand.
"Is--is--this all you--you found, Mr. Jones?"
I knew that she was mine then, but I was merciful. I did not answer, but
turned away and walked to the edge of the cliff, where Zalee was
beckoning to me. He was standing there, looking downward. On the plain,
some three hundred feet below, stood a man. He was in the open, perhaps
six hundred feet away as the crow flies. He was looking upward. He waved
his hand, it seemed, as if in astonishment. Zalee waved back to him. Of
this, however, I did not approve.
Lacelle came up at that moment. The Smith followed.
"Tell him," I said, "that they will find us here if we show ourselves in
this way." The Smith made Zalee understand this. He laughed, shook his
head, and showed his white teeth.
"He says you may show yourselves as much as you like; they have no idea
how to get up here," said Cynthia, who had joined us.
"Where is the Bo's'n?" asked I. At that moment the Bo's'n emerged from
some concealment to the westward of where we were standing. In his arms
he carried the little boy who had been rescued by Zalee the night
before. Besides the child, he carried the spyglass. He had made the
glass his special care. It stood to him in place of the family Bible.
The reverence that he felt for this useful article stood us in good
stead. I took the glass.
"I wonder what that savage wants," said I.
"He wants to know how to get up here," said the Smith.
"Can it be Uncle?" asked Cynthia.
"No," said I; "he's as black as that funereal bag of yours. The only
difference is he hasn't a white spot on him." The man waved and
gesticulated.
"I wouldn't show myself out on the edge of that terrace," said the
Smith. "They'll surely find a way up here if they see us."
"Zalee said there was no danger," said I; but I retreated, leaving the
man gesticulating.
"It's some ruse, I suppose," said the Smith.
I could not help crawling to the edge of the rock a little later,
however, and peering through the leaves which fringed its extreme limit.
The man was still looking upward. So he stood for a few moments, and
then turned reluctantly, I thought, toward the path leading to the one
up which we had clambered, and was lost in the thick undergrowth.
"I think it extremely unsafe," said I. "I think we have tempted
Providence enough."
"Zalee is always right, Mr. Jones," said Cynthia. "What do you think can
have become of Uncle?"
"I think that he will go to the cave as we did, and that if Zalee goes
down again to-night he may find him."
"But he can't go every night," said Cynthia. "We were very much worried
when he said that he must go last night. It is many miles from
here--eight, perhaps. Zalee went down hoping to find you all, and then
you must remember that he and the Bo's'n carried all our belongings up
here the day and night before. And then he had the child to care for."
"Oh," said I, "I was wondering what had become of the boy."
"What boy? Oh, that little friend of Zalee's. He seems to have found the
child in the wood. Lacelle seemed so glad to see him. Wasn't it strange
that such a child should be wandering all alone at that time of night.
They have a queer way of treating children in this island."
"They have, indeed!" said I.
I saw that she knew nothing of the terrible practice which we had
witnessed, and I had no intention of enlightening her.
We then sat down to eat such food as the Bo's'n had prepared, and the
others resumed while doing so their surmises about the Skipper. As for
me, I had much to think of.
Our party had now been augmented by the presence of a little boy who
could aid us in nothing, who must be taken care of at all hazards. And
we had lost the cheery presence of the Skipper. The Minion, too, was
gone, but he did not enter into my calculations, for I thought that,
though we were well rid of him, he was a young man who would always come
up smiling. I could not but wonder how long we were to remain here, and
if Zalee had any plan for us. It seemed so strange to suddenly be cast
on the mercy and kindness of a half savage in the wilds of Haiti that I
could hardly help smiling. How long, I wondered, were we to remain
perched on this isolated cliff waiting for some one to come to our aid.
I asked Cynthia what plans had been made, if any. She answered that
Lacelle had told her that Zalee had a plan, and that he would tell it to
us after supper. So that evening, when the work of the day was done,
Zalee told us of his plan. Rather, he told Lacelle. She communicated it
to Cynthia and the Bo's'n together, and they in turn told me.
Zalee said that American ships sometimes came into the harbour of Le
Cap. He had heard of them from his uncle, who once had been to the town.
That no one seemed to know where America was, as they knew of nothing
but France, and the chiefs and generals in the island, against whom they
fought constantly. But Zalee said that he had heard that coffee was sent
to that far-off land America, and that if he could find a coffee vessel
there, he would get the captain to take a letter to America for us. Then
perhaps they would send a ship for us from our home. I shook my head.
"That seems a very uncertain way," said I. "We must have a consul there,
and he is bound to help us if he hears our story. The only danger is
that between all these contending parties and forces no one will
consider himself responsible for our safety. Should anything happen to
us, they can all of them lay it on the other, which won't help our case
at all. I believe the southern provinces are beginning to revolt
against Christophe already."
When this was explained to Zalee, he shook his head and said that his
way was best. That "consite"[D] liked to stay at Port au Prince. The
Smith suggested that we should all start with Zalee and try to reach Le
Cap.
[D] Haitien for consul.
It seemed almost incredible that within fifteen or sixteen miles of us
there might be an American of authority who could save us, and who
undoubtedly would if he knew of our unhappy condition. Yet the
difficulty was to get a message to him. At the time of which I write
there was no respect felt in the island for strangers. The Haitiens had
overcome the French and were puffed up with pride of power, and nothing
short of official authority would compass our ends. In the first place,
the roaming bands which we might meet would not believe our story, and,
in the second place, they could pretend to doubt it even if it sounded
like truth in their ears. I might start and try to make the trip myself,
but I could not expose Cynthia to the unknown dangers of such a journey,
and I could not leave her alone with these men, who were probably
trustworthy, but whom to be certain of, I had not proved sufficiently.
I turned to Cynthia. Her trials had told upon her. She looked thinner
and more fragile than she had even a few days ago. I did not see how she
was to compass the journey. I shook my head. There was, perhaps, a
little moisture in my eye.
"We had better stay here," said I. "I can see nothing else for it. Then
the consul can make a demand on Christophe for us, and threaten him with
the wrath of our Government if he does not send us to Le Cap." Not that
I had much faith in that plan, either.
"I would rather start," said Cynthia. "Why can't we, Mr. Jones?"
"You could not do it. The natives are too uneasy. Bands of rebels may be
wandering in these woods. And then there is the Captain. Have you
forgotten him?"
"Oh, no, of course not. I am afraid that I did forget for a moment. No,
I can not leave Uncle."
I knew that her remaining would make no difference to the Skipper, who,
if he had not made a meal for some vaudoux chief, might be languishing
in durance until they decided what to do with him.
"We will do as Zalee says," said I. "When does he purpose starting?"
"As soon as he gets food enough collected to be able to leave us for
three or four days," answered Cynthia.
The next few days we spent in collecting what food we could, and making
it ready against the time when Zalee should be gone. Lacelle told us
that he must make a slight detour, as he intended taking the little boy
back to his mother. Lacelle looked wistful when she told Cynthia this,
and I gathered that it was because her home was near that of the child;
but at a cheering word from Zalee she smiled again. She told Cynthia
that Zalee had said that they must be wanderers until the island was
more settled. That now no one knew which side to be on. That Dessalines
and Regaud had been as bad as Petion, and that Boyer was now warring
against Christophe, and if one could not decide which would prove the
winning side, he had better secrete himself until these unhappy days
were over. I had been curious, I must confess, as to where Cynthia and
Lacelle were housed, but motives of delicacy kept me from asking. Now
Cynthia turned to Lacelle, and told her that she might show me the rooms
which they occupied.
Upon the right side of the terrace a narrow path ran under an arch, and,
passing this, one walked along the cliff for a few feet. The path
crossed a broad crack in the rock and came to a small opening, which led
to two natural caves. They were very small, one beyond the other, both
facing the ocean, as did the terrace. One looked out from them as one
does from an Italian loggia. I did not more than glance at the entrance
to the first one, but I saw that if our position was inaccessible,
Cynthia's was even more so.
I have not told of the trickling stream that ran down outside of the
terrace from the mountain heights above. Certainly Zalee would not have
chosen a place of refuge where there was not a plentiful supply of
water.
And now came the time for Zalee to start. I must confess that I saw him
prepare to go with a heart full of forebodings. I wondered when he would
return, if ever. But he turned to me with his sweet smile, showing his
white even teeth, and taking Lacelle's hand, laid it in mine with a bow
that would have done honour to a courtier. It was if he had said: "I
leave my all with you. I trust her with you. You can trust me to
return."
We had food prepared to last for five days at least. We should not
starve. And we sat ourselves down to wait as well as we could for
Zalee's return. I had given him a note to the consul, written on a scrap
of paper which Cynthia had torn from the little note-book, and he
started off with it, in its double case of paper, tied round his neck
with a piece of Cynthia's silk, and the little lad held safely in his
arms. The child had frightened eyes, and I wondered if his reason was
intact. He must have suffered terribly during the time that he was
confined under the altar of the temple. He told Lacelle that he was in a
box with a serpent. That the creature coiled itself round his body. That
he was there for three days and nights; that he saw the light come and
go three separate times. I could hardly believe this, but Zalee seemed
to think it quite true.
When I asked why the serpent did not injure the child Zalee told me,
through the string of interpreters, that the large serpents that are
chosen as the gods of the vaudoux rites are harmless. This was at least
one redeeming feature amid all the horrors of that dreadful practice.
The Bo's'n and I put the stone up against the opening after Zalee's
departure, and I must confess that I wondered who would remove it.
Something that happened during our stay in this new place I almost dread
to tell you, and yet it is a more than solemn fact, and will show to you
a tithe, perhaps, of the anxiety that our stay there caused me. One
morning the Smith and I had volunteered to secure some mangoes. I had
heard Cynthia express a wish for some, and she so seldom asked for
anything but the simple food that we had to divide among us, that I
decided to skirt down the hill to a tree of which I knew and bring some
to the plateau. We listened at the door of our passage, and, hearing no
sound, we removed the slab of stone and ran down the underground way,
feeling the wall with our hands to guide us. When we reached the outer
air we struck into the woods toward the west, and were soon at the mango
tree. The Smith was an expert climber, and so I allowed him to climb up
among the great branches, while I stood below to catch the fruit. I
caught all that I could as he dropped them, that they might not be
bruised, and when I had collected what I thought a sufficient quantity I
called to him to come down.
"There are some fine ones out on that lower limb," said he. "I should
like to get those for the lady, if you don't mind."
I saw him crawling out on the long, strong limb. He laid along it like a
serpent, and, as it was a lower limb, he was not far from the ground.
All at once I heard an exclamation of horror, and the Smith dropped from
the branch. I ran to him, and found that he was bending over a figure
lying among the grass and weeds. It was that of a young man of perhaps
twenty years of age. He was lying on his back, his eyes staring upward.
He was cold in death. How can I write the rest! From the region of the
heart a tube or hollow sort of reed stood up perpendicularly in the air.
No! I can not write it. The "loup garou" had been there before us, and
without the excuse of the vaudoux rites! They had, indeed, been wolves
to their own kind. Vampires, I might say! I turned my head while the
Smith withdrew the tube and the sharp instrument at its end, which had
made the incision.
"First the trance," said the Smith, "and then death! Fortunately, the
victims know nothing usually of the manner of their end."
We had no way to dig a grave for the poor young fellow, so we carried
him to a cleft in the rock of which I knew and dropped the body down.
This terrible incident impressed me as nothing else (not even the
sacrifice of the children) had. There was something so horrible in the
fact of the young man meeting his fate alone in that deep, dark wood! I
was ready to slay the first creature that I came across, but we met no
one in returning, and got safely into the passageway and replaced the
rock. Then the horror of it all overcame me, and I dropped in the tunnel
like a stone.