THE STORY FROM THE SEA
In few words, it came to this. The sailors on the island had proved
themselves to be as bloody villains as had ever fed the gallows. They
had taken the unhappy colonists by surprise and had massacred them, all
but the women and the children. As for the women--poor things!--it would
have been better for them if they had been killed with the others, but
their lives were spared for greater sorrows. Those who told us that tale
were all that were left, they said, of the unhappy company. They had
escaped by mere chance to the woods, and had fashioned with their axes
the rough raft and oars which had conducted them at last to us and to
temporary safety.
This was their first raw story. Horrid as it was it took a stronger
horror when one of the men shouted a curse at Cornelys Jensen.
'Cornelys Jensen!' I cried. 'Cornelys Jensen--Cornelys Jensen is dead,
and the seas have swallowed him.'
The man who had uttered his name gave a great groan.
'Would to Heaven they had,' he said. 'But Heaven has not been so
merciful. That tiger still lives and lusts for blood.'
Marjorie and Lancelot and I glanced at each other in amazement, and the
same thought crossed all our minds--that fear and grief had crazed the
unhappy man who was speaking to us. But he, reading something of our
thoughts in our eyes, turned to his fellows for confirmation, and
confirmation they readily gave. Cornelys Jensen was alive. Cornelys
Jensen was on the island. Cornelys Jensen was the instigator of the
massacre, the bloodiest actor in the bloody work.
Here was indeed amazing tidings, and we cried to know more, but the men
had no more to tell. They had no knowledge of how Cornelys Jensen made
his appearance upon the island; all they knew was that he did appear,
and that his appearance was the signal for a display of weapons on the
part of the sailors on his side and the massacre of all the unhappy
wretches who were not inclined to his piratical purposes. The colonists
seemed to have made no sort of stand for their lives. Indeed, it would
appear that they were taken quite unawares, and that the most were
struck down before they had time to act in their own defence. As for the
miserable wretches who told us this tale, they had fled to the woods
when the wicked business began, and the murderers either lost count of
them or imagined that they must perish miserably of famine in the
forest. Indeed, they must have so perished if it had not occurred to one
of them, who had his wits a little more about him than the others, to
suggest the manufacture of a raft, whereby they might make the attempt
to reach the island, where, as they guessed, we, with our well-armed
fellows, were safely settled. 'For,' as the man argued, 'we risk death
either way. If we stop here we must either perish among these trees for
lack of sustenance or must creep back to the piratical camp with little
other hope than a stroke from a hanger, or tempt the seas in the hope of
friends and safety.' So they fashioned a raft as well as they could out
of a number of fallen trees, which they fastened together with natural
ropes made of the long creeping plants that abounded, and that were as
tough and as endurable as ever was rope that was weaved out of honest
hemp. They found enough timber for their craft among the fallen tree
trunks, and they had the less difficulty in their work that one of
their number was Janes, who had his saw in his belt at the moment of
their flight to the woods.
Long before they finished telling their tale our men, who were scattered
abroad in the woods, came tumbling down to us at the sound of the horn,
that Lancelot wound to summon them, and gathered in horror around their
unhappy comrades. As for me, I was so amazed at the news that Cornelys
Jensen was alive that I stood for awhile like one stunned, and could say
nothing, but only stare at those pale faces and wonder dumbly. When
after awhile the power of speech did return to me I strove with many
questions to find out how Jensen was thus restored to life and to evil
deeds, but as to that they none of them knew anything. If the marvel of
Jensen's reappearance was the greatest marvel, marvel only second to it
was how the sailors who obeyed him came to have weapons for their
business. As to that, again, the fugitives could give no help. The
sailors had arms, every man of them, muskets and pistols and cutlasses,
and had used them with deadly effect. It was all a mystery that made our
senses sick to think upon.
Of one thing the fugitives were very positive--that Jensen and his
murderers would very soon make a descent upon our island, in the hope of
surprising us unawares and killing us. For now they were very numerous,
and at least as well-armed as we were, and would make very formidable
enemies. The only wonder was that they had not already attempted it, but
the men believed that the villains were so engrossed in a swinish orgie
after their triumph as to be heedless of time or prudence. So here were
we--but thirty-two men in all, not counting these fugitives--and with
one woman, though so brave an one--in urgent peril. It was fortunate for
us all that in Lancelot's youth there was an alliance of courage with
skill which would have done credit to a general of fifty. I was not much
in those days in the way of giving advice, but I was strong and active,
and ready to obey Lancelot in all things, which was what was most wanted
of me in that juncture. We had every reason to be confident in the
fidelity and courage of the men who were with us, and our confidence was
not misplaced.
The first thing to be done was to settle the fugitives in the utmost
comfort we could afford them. We put them to rest in one of our tents we
had built, and gave to each of them a taste of strong waters, after
which we urged them to sleep if they could, adding, to encourage them in
that effort, that the sooner their bodies were refreshed by rest and
food the better they would be able to bear their part in resisting the
common enemy. This argument had great weight with the men, who were very
willing to be of help, but too hopelessly worn out just then to be of
the smallest aid to us or the smallest obstacle to our enemies. Indeed,
the poor fellows were so broken with fear and suffering that I think
they would have slept if they had heard that Cornelys Jensen, with all
his pack, had landed upon the island. As it was, in a very few minutes
all of them were lying in a row and sleeping soundly. I could almost
have wept as I looked upon them lying there so quiet and so miserable,
and thought of all the high hopes with which they had entered upon the
adventure that had proved so disastrous for them and so fatal for so
many of their companions.
Having thus disposed of them, our next course was to take such steps as
we could towards strengthening our position. To begin with, we hauled
our boat further up the creek than she now was, for it would be a
terrible misfortune to us if anything were to happen to her, seeing that
on her depended any chance we had of leaving the island if we were so
far pushed as to have to make the attempt. Our position was not an easy
one to attack as it stood, coming, as the attack must, from the island
we had left, for of an attack in our rear we had no danger. Even if
Cornelys Jensen were able to get to the back of our island, it would
take him an intolerable time to make his way through the well-nigh
impenetrable woods that lay between us. On our front we felt confident
that the attack would come, and we felt further confident that, even if
it was made with the full force of ruffians that Jensen had at his
command, we ought to be able to repulse it, and to prevent the
scoundrels from effecting a landing. For though the news that they were
thoroughly equipped with the weapons and munitions of war was wofully
disheartening news, still, as we were well-armed ourselves, it did not
altogether discourage us. They might be very well two to one, but two to
one is no such great odds when the larger party has to effect a landing
upon an open place held by resolute men and well weaponed.
It was, in Lancelot's judgment, our first duty to erect a sort of fort
or stockade upon the beach, wherein we could take shelter if we were
really hard pressed, and wherein we could store for greater safety our
stores and ammunition from our skiff. We had set up several huts along
the shore of the creek for habitation and for storage of our goods. But
they would have offered no protection in case of an attack, being but
mere shells hurriedly put together, and intended merely as temporary
shelters from possible foul weather. Lancelot's scheme was to enclose
all these buildings in a strong wall, and to connect that fort by
another wall with the spot at which our skiff was beached.
There was no great difficulty in the construction of such a stockade in
itself. Timber enough and to spare was to be had for the chopping, and
we had thirty odd pairs of arms and sufficient axes to make that a
matter of no difficulty. Nor was there any difficulty as regards the
building of such a fort, for Lancelot's knowledge of military matters
made him quite capable of planning it out according to the most approved
methods of fortification.
We set to work upon the stockade at once, and soon were chopping away
for dear life, even Marjorie wielding a light axe, and wielding it well.
Many hands, it is said, make light work, and there were enough of us to
make the business move pretty quickly. Choosing trees with trunks of a
middling thickness, we soon had a great quantity cut down and made of
the length that was needed. These we proceeded to set up in the places
that Lancelot had marked out, but first we dug deep trenches in the
ground so as to ensure their being firmly established, Marjorie taking
her share of the spade work with a will. We had not done very much
before Abraham Janes, the carpenter, came out of the hut and joined us.
He declared that he was now well refreshed, and that he wished to bear
his part in the labour; and indeed we were very glad to let him do so,
because he was an exceedingly skilful workman, and very ready with the
use of saw and hatchet.