CAPTURED.
Mary, shrieking, peered far over the edge of the rock, vainly looking
for her lover.
"Killed! killed!" she wailed, wringing her hands. "My God, he is
dashed to pieces on the ground, by your letting go of the rope!"
"I?" exclaimed the captain, looking wild and half bewildered.
"Ay, God! it is so!"
The vision had by this time vanished. Partially recovering his
self-possession, the captain hurried down the steep cliff, following
Mary, who, like a maniac, ran on.
She soon gained the foot of the precipice, and was hurrying along in
the direction where she expected to find the remains of her lover all
mangled from his fall of sixty feet, when suddenly, she felt some
person grasp her arm, and turning, beheld Brand.
"Let me go! Why hold me?" screamed the young girl, wildly.
"See, there!" he answered, pointing towards the beach, "that is the
reason!"
Looking in the indicated direction, she beheld, in the lurid glare of
the volcanic fire, a long canoe, by the beach.
Evidently it was the same which had pursued them on that day when the
two warriors were slain.
Bent on vengeance, the islanders had not yet given up the pursuit, but
had searched for the fugitives ever since, at last coming upon their
traces.
Now the forms of the fierce men were seen advancing swiftly in single
file up the beach, on a course, which, had Mary kept on, must have
brought her into contact with them.
"Never mind," she exclaimed; "let me go to his body! What care I if
they do kill me, so long as I get a glimpse of his form?"
Brand, however, held her firmly.
He felt that he should at least partially atone for his crime by
saving the daughter of the man he had sent to his death.
"Come! come with me! This is madness."
Mary struggled in vain. Brand drew her along with him into the shadow
of a small cavern in the foot of the cliff.
"Hark!" he said, "you must not cry out."
Attracted probably by her cries, several natives soon presented
themselves at the entrance of the cavern.
Brand, being unarmed, could do nothing. Several spears were pointed at
his heart and that of his companion.
An islander--a huge fellow with great rings tattooed like bracelets
all over both his arms; evidently a chief, interposed.
"No strike!" he exclaimed, in broken English, "this's too much quick
death. Best take and chokee slow."
"What do you mean?" inquired Brand.
"Cussem Americanon!" said the chief, fiercely, "kill one two me men!
Mus' pay for dat."
"You are mistaken," answered Brand; "I never killed a man. It wasn't
me."
"All same you with," answered the islander. "Ho! ho! never get way
from me--me got long canoe."
The two were dragged to the beach, bound with strong wythes, and were
made to sit down upon the sand.
Then a brief conversation was held, after which, the chief said
something to several of his men.
Away they went, climbing up a tree, and procuring several branches.
These they brought to the chief, who, passing them round the neck of
the prisoners so tightly that both were nearly throttled, then turned
again and spoke to his people.
Instantly the latter, seizing the two, dragged them up to their necks
into the water, where they were firmly held with the incoming seas
continually breaking over their heads.
A slow, torturing method this to make way with prisoners. It is
however resorted to by many of the South Sea Island tribes.
At first the victim easily manages to catch his breath between
whiles. Gradually, however, this becoming harder, and the difficulty
increasing every moment, the wretches are eventually strangled to
death.
Poor Mary! The hardships and excitement she had lately undergone were
of themselves sufficient to deprive an ordinary woman of her strength.
This young girl, however, had an excellent constitution and, when
occasion required, a strong will. Now the intensity of her anguish
regarding her lover had so worked upon her, that, with this new
torture before her, she became unconscious.
Heedless of this, however, the native having charge of her, still held
her upright in the water, until the chief again interfered.
"Makee muchee now long," said he.
The two were drawn out to the beach, Brand, however, being informed
that the disagreeable ceremony would before morning, be repeated,
until he was drownee, drownee, drownee.
Soon after Mary came to her senses. At first somewhat bewildered, she
soon remembered all.
"Dead! dead!" she moaned, "he is dead."
The natives heeded not her sufferings. On the contrary, they seemed to
gloat over her distress.
An hour wore on when the prisoners were again led into water, the seas
breaking high, continually went over their heads.
Mary soon drew her breath with difficulty--her brain went round and
round, she felt that she was dying.
In fact, life must have deserted her in a few minutes, but for a
singular interposition, the phantom-like figure which has been
mentioned, appearing suddenly on the branch of a tree and waving its
arms to the natives in a frantic manner.
"Berch, hounds and dogs!" it exclaimed in hollow voice; "what would ye
do. I forbid this work. Terrible misfortune will attend ye, if ye keep
on thus persecuting those prisoners."
Brand, hearing that voice, turned his head.
As he did so, the form suddenly vanished.
The natives stood looking at each other in surprise. Brand noticing
their astonishment, thought he might turn it to good account.
No other consideration but that of saving his life could have tempted
him to speak of the vision of the murdered passenger to a living soul.
"Indians," said he, "I would at once speak to your chief."
The men who held him understood him sufficiently to make known his
request to their leader, who, forthwith, appeared floundering through
the water.
"What want? Speak quick!"
"Well, then," said Brand, shuddering, "he whom you saw just now among
the trees, was no mortal vision. It is a phantom!"
"How know you that?"
"If the chief will take me a little ways off I will tell him," said
Brand, not caring to have the young girl hear what he intended to say.
The chief did as requested, when Brand explained, saying that the
phantom was that of a passenger who had accidentally fallen overboard
from a vessel aboard which he (Brand), was third officer.
The superstitious natives are prone to believe weird stories, and the
chief was no exception to the rule.
To his awe-stricken followers he at once explained what he had
learned, when it was unanimously agreed that the lives of the two
prisoners should be spared, at least for the present.
No good, the natives all agreed, could come of their disobeying the
injunctions of a spirit.
Mary and Brand were therefore taken and seated near a bright fire,
which had been kindled for comfort by their enemies.
They were treated to cooked breadfruit, cocoanut sauce, and other
delicacies of the South Sea Islanders. Brand ate heartily, but poor
Mary, almost maddened by her grief, would not even look at what was
proffered her.
"Harry is dead! dead!" was the continual cry of her anguished soul.
Meanwhile the whole island was rocking like a floating ship. Showers
of fire, roaring thunder, flew from the volcanic peak.
The natives looked at each other. Presently the chief spoke.
"The islee will be swallowed in fire," said he; "the spirit which
spoke, did not tell right. It is a bad spirit, which Islander must not
mind. It said if Islander spare white men's life, no harm come. See!
here is harm. The island will be lost before Islander can find all
their foes."
Such was the purport of the chief's words, uttered however, in a more
incomprehensible manner than we have shown.
"Yes," continued the speaker, "so we say we must killee! killee,"
pointing at the two prisoners; "must killee quickee, no slow now."
He held a brief consultation with some of his men, four of whom now
advanced toward the girl and Brand, each of which was lifted between a
couple.
"Quickee--go!" screamed the chief, when each of the pair, with their
burdens commenced rapidly scaling the sides of the steep ascent.
Good need it now seemed, was there of their making swift speed.
They kept on with all possible dispatch, eventually pausing upon a
lofty spire, far up on the very top of the mountain.
This spur, rising to a height of about forty feet from the edge of
the volcanic crater, overlooked the chasm of fire, which, like the
infernal lake itself, lay at its base, shooting its forked tongues of
roaring, hissing flame high in air!
And now the prisoners comprehended the fate intended for them, for the
natives driving them to and fro, preparing to fling them into that
lurid, roaring, crackling sea of fire!