“We eat. Then we go get pearls,” decided Anai.
The boys, whose appetites had been sharpened by the trip, were not
averse to this, and they made a hearty meal. After it the two native
boys produced leaves in which betel nuts had been carefully wrapped up
and offered them to Jack and Billy, both of whom declined them. But Anai
and his friend began chewing the spicy nuts with great zest.
A canoe-length from where they floated a clear rill of water stole
noiselessly down from above, mingling its sweet waters with the sea.
After demolishing their betel nuts, the chewing of which is a well-nigh
universal custom in the South Seas, the two native boys stood erect and
then bound their long black hair in knots on the top of their heads.
Then, with a shout, they balanced gracefully for a second on the edge of
the canoe and plunged over. They floated for a minute or two and then
dived, after inhaling immense breaths. To the boys, watching the divers
through the clear water, it looked as if they were literally climbing
down, head first, through the pellucid depths.
Then they saw both the Kanaka lads wrenching oyster shells from their
hold on the coral with furious energy. It seemed impossible that they
could stay under water as long as they did, but at length, even their
wonderful endurance gave out and, laden with shells, they shot back to
the surface.
Reaching the canoe, the two divers hung almost exhausted on the
outrigger, regaining their breath after they had thrown several oysters
into the canoe, which the boys opened eagerly, but only two small pearls
rewarded them. The two Kanaka boys showed plainly the stress of the long
time they had stayed down. Their eyes were bloodshot and their faces
suffused. Their veins stood out on their bodies like cords.
The boys begged them not to go down again, but they insisted.
“How often do you mean to dive?” asked Billy.
“One, maybe two, three time,” said Anai.
“Nobody can dive more than three time,” declared the other. “Him bad if
dive too many time. Makee much sick.”
“I should think so,” said Jack. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible for
any one to stay down so long. It’s wonderful.”
The next two dives yielded three more pearls from a dozen or more
oysters. None of them were of any great value but the two divers
insisted on presenting them to the boys.
“Me try get you very good pearl some udder day,” promised Anai, and his
companion nodded to show that he meant to help in the enterprise.
“Hullo, what’s that?” asked Jack suddenly, after they had chatted and
rested for some time and began to think about returning. There was a
booming sound in the air and the waters of the cave began to become
agitated, rocking the canoe dangerously.
Overhead, through the dome, they could see that the sky had darkened.
“Me think storm come. Better get out of here,” said Anai, looking
troubled. “Him bad time of year for storms.”
“Goodness, I should say so,” declared Jack. “We’ve been in two bad ones
already.”
“That’s how we got blown here,” added Billy.
“We thinkee that good storm blow you here, white boys,” said Anai.
The sky grew darker, and every now and then a big roller entirely filled
the mouth of the cavern, blinding them with spray. Having spent its
fury, these great waves retired with a concussion that was deafening,
dragging the canoe with fearful velocity toward the mouth of the cave by
its suction. At such times they only saved themselves from being swept
out to sea by grasping the hanging curtain of creepers and vines. Anai
and his companion baled the canoe with a big shell, but the boys felt
that their position was an awkward and even a dangerous one.
Another great wave burst, sealing up the cave as if it was an air-tight
compartment, and making the waters of the cavern boil and seethe
furiously. The pressure of air caused by the sudden rush of water
affected the boys’ ears as if they had been suddenly placed in a
caisson.
“This is terrible,” cried Jack.
“Something will have to be done,” said Billy. “We can’t last in here
much longer.”
“Are we in danger, Anai?” asked Jack.
“We in very bad fix; but we getee out all right,” the Kanaka assured
him, stopping his bailing.
“They’ve got some plan in their head,” decided Jack, and sat down in the
bottom of the cranky, frail canoe to see what the next move was to be.
It was a startling one. The two youths seized their paddles and then, as
the next wave receded, they shot out of the mouth of the cave like a
bomb from a mortar, before either Jack or Billy could guess their
intention or stop what seemed sheer madness on the Kanakas’ part, and
placed all their lives in grave danger. Outside they found themselves in
the teeth of a howling gale. Spray blinded them, flying over them in
sheets.
Nothing more was said, nothing seen. The air was darkened with flying
spume. It seemed impossible that the canoe could live a minute.