"I don't know how we managed to get ashore, sir," said Jecks faintly.
"I think it was because there was so little undertow to the waves. When
the boat struck, it felt to me as if I was being blown through the
shallow water, and I shouldn't have been here if I hadn't come up
against Mr Ching, who was pulling you along."
"Then you saved me, Ching?" I cried.
"Ching takee hold, and pullee here. Velly pull wolk. Him get hold of
tow-chang, and pullee him both together."
"That's right, sir. I snatched at anything, and got hold of his tail,
and held on. But you don't mind, Mr Ching?"
"No; mustn't cut tow-chang off."
"Let's try if we can find the others," I said; and, taking the lead, I
walked round the mass of rock which had sheltered us, to gaze out at the
heaving sea, which was rising and falling restlessly; but there was no
white water, all was of a delicious blue, darker than the sky, and not a
sail in sight.
To right and left extended a low cliff, at whose feet lay huge masses
which had fallen from time to time; then an irregular stretch of sand
extended to where the waves came curling over, the swell being very
heavy, and the only trace of the storm to be seen was the way in which
the sand had been driven up against the cliff, so as to form quite a
glacis.
We could see about half a mile in either direction, but there was no
sign of our companions, and my heart sank again. There were, however,
here and there, ridges of rock, running down like breakwaters into the
sea, and about which it fretted and tossed tremendously; and, in the
hope that one of these ridges might hide our friends from our view, I
climbed to the top of the highest piece of rock I could reach, and took
a long and careful survey.
"See anything, sir?" said Tom Jecks.
"No," I replied, "nothing. Yes; about a quarter of a mile on there's a
spar sticking up; it may be the boat's mast."
I came hurriedly down, and my announcement was enough to set my
companions off, Jecks limping painfully through the loose sand, climbing
rocks, and finding it no easy task to get over that so-called quarter of
a mile, which, like all such spaces on the sea-shore, proved to be about
double the length it looked, while the nearer we got the higher and more
formidable the ridge seemed to grow, completely shutting out all beyond,
where it ran down from the cliff at right angles into the sea.
All at once, as I was helping the coxswain over an awkward stone, the
poor fellow being weak and rather disposed to stagger, but always
passing it off with a laugh and an "All right, sir, I shall be better
after breakfast," Ching uttered an ejaculation, and pointed to something
that the sea had washed up, and was pouncing upon again like a cat to
draw it back.
My heart seemed to stand still, but a horrible fascination drew me to
the spot along with the Chinaman, for my first thought was that it was
the body of Mr Brooke.
"Not jolly sailor boy," said Ching; and I felt a peculiar exaltation.
"Not Mis' Blooke. Pilate man dlowned. Ching velly glad."
We turned away, and continued our route, for I shrank from going into
dangerous breakers to try and drag the man out, and my companion was too
weak. As to its being one of the pirates, it seemed possible, for I
knew that one, if not two, had gone overboard in the fight, and it was
probably one of these.
We trudged on and reached the ridge at last, to find it bigger and more
precipitous than I had expected. It ran out evidently for hundreds of
yards, its course being marked by foam and fretting waves, and I was
just thinking what a fatal spot it would be for a vessel to touch the
shore, when I reached the top and uttered a startled cry, which brought
the others to my side; for there was the explanation of the presence of
the drowned Chinaman! Spreading away for a couple of hundred yards, the
shore was covered with timbers, great bamboo spars, ragged sails, and
the torn and shattered fragments of some large Chinese vessel; while,
before I could shape it in my mind as to the possibilities of what
vessel this could be, though certain it was not the _Teaser_, Ching said
coolly--
"That velly good job. That big junk blow all to pieces, and allee bad
pilate man dlowned. No go choppee off poor sailor head now. No 'teal
silk, tea, allee good thing, and burnee ship. Velly good job indeed;
velly bad lot."
"You think it was the junk which cheated us?"
"Yes, velly muchee same. Look, allee paint, lacquee, gold. Allee same
junk; no use go find um now. No get head chop off for killee sailo'.
Allee bad pilate allee dlowned."
"Hold hard there, sir," whispered Tom Jecks. "I can hear people
talking. Quick! squat, hide; there's a lot on 'em coming down off the
cliff."
We had just time to hide behind some rocks, when a party of about twenty
Chinamen came cautiously and slowly down on to the sands, and Ching
whispered as he peeped between the fragments of rock--
"Not allee pilate dlowned. Come along look at junk; take care; choppee
off allee head; must hide."
Ching was quite right, and I was awake to the fact that we three were
prisoners on a little desert island, and in company with a gang of as
savage and desperate enemies as man could have.