And so that awful night wore on, one story bringing forth another, and
the spinning of one yarn being followed by the spinning of one perhaps
longer.
It was anything to relieve the terrible tedium and beguile their
thoughts from the peril in which they were placed. The lapse of time
was discussed, and the possibility of the slackening of the furious flow
of the falling river so that a boat might come down in search of the
unfortunates, but to a man all came to the conclusion that nothing could
be expected until daylight, and that they must bear their fate as best
they might.
The most cheerful thing that fell to their lot during the weary hours
was the announcement made from time to time by Joe Cross, that the water
was sinking a little lower and a little lower, so that he had room to
hope that after a while he too would be able to, as he put it, drip
himself dry.
But the monotony was terrible, and the morning seemed as if it would
never come. For it was far different from being in the temperate region
of the world, where in the summer months the darkness was slow to come
and was succeeded by a very early dawn. There in that tropical southern
land they were where the twenty-four-hours day was pretty equally
divided into light and darkness, with scarcely any twilight to soften
down the division.
But still as everything comes to those who wait, so it was there, and
Joe Cross announced at last that he was sitting quite clear of the
water, and therefore, as he judged it, they had not very much longer to
wait before it would be day.
But he was wrong. What seemed to be an interminable time elapsed before
the watchers could see for certain that a faint light seemed to be
piercing the dense grey mist that covered the river. But this did at
last become a certainty.
Before long, on one side, grey and grim-looking beneath a heavy mist,
the great river could be seen gliding steadily along, while away to
their right rose the primeval forest, rising as it were out of a sea of
shadow.
The change came quickly then through a rapid twilight to the bright rays
of the sunshine, which seemed to attack the river mist, piercing it
through and through, routing it, and sending it in clouds rolling along
the stream, while, now glistening and muddy, the banks showed out beyond
the trees amidst which the huge monarch in which they had taken refuge
stood towering almost alone.
"Why, we must have come inshore for some distance last night," cried
Rodd, in wonder.
"Ay, my lad. Banks flooded. High tide perhaps," said Joe bluffly.
"Well, the sooner we gets down into this mud and stretches our legs the
better; and if they don't come down in the boats, how we are going to
get back is more than I know."
"Look! Look yonder!" cried Rodd, as, sweeping the park-like stretch
around him, he suddenly caught sight of an object that filled his breast
with joy.
"Three cheers, my lads," shouted Joe, waving his hand, "and--Oh, hold
hard! Avast there! Gig's safe to have a hole through her bottom."
For there, about a hundred yards away, between the trees, lay something
gleaming amongst the mud.
He could only see a portion, but that was enough, and one by one, stiff
and cold, the unfortunate party lowered themselves down from their
perches to drop into a thin surface of soft mud, the swift rush of the
tide preventing it from accumulating to any depth.
Their fortune was better than they anticipated, for on reaching the
boat's side it was to find that, though bottom upward, she had escaped
any serious injury, the yielding boughs into which she had been swept
having checked the force of the concussion and left her to glide from
tangle of boughs to tangle, until she had been wedged into a huge fork
and had from there slowly settled down.
But there was neither oar nor boat-hook, and the line fastened to her
foremost thwart had been snapped in two.
"All her tackle gone," said Joe grimly. "Well, we must try and find and
hack off some big bamboo canes with our jack-knives, and then try if we
can't punt her up against the tide, which ought to be pretty slack by
now--that is, if they don't come to find us."
"But look here, Joe," cried Rodd, as he stood shading his eyes from the
horizontal sunbeams; "there's the river, and the mist's rolling along
with the tide. Here, I'm puzzled. Which way did we come?"
"Why, that's plain enough, Mr Rodd, sir. Down with the stream yon
way."
"But that must be down-stream."
"Nay, not it, my lad. The river winds, and so did my head. Here, I'm
all of a maze still. No, I aren't. Here, I'm blest! Why, you are
right, sir. That is up-stream, and--Hooray, my lads! One pole will do,
to steer. We are going to be carried back again, for the tide's turned
and running up steady."
A very little search resulted in their coming upon a bed of canes, out
of which four were cut and trimmed, supplying them with good stout poles
twelve or fourteen feet long, and laying these along the thwarts the
men, glad now of the exercise to drive out the chill, insisted upon Rodd
getting into the boat while they waded through the mud by her side, half
lifting, half thrusting, and succeeded at last in getting her to where a
sloping portion of the bank ran down to the river.
"Now all together, my lads," cried Joe. "Keep step, and hold her well
in hand, for she'll soon begin to slide; and as soon as she reaches the
water, jump in. Make ready. I'll give the word."
"Stop!" shouted Rodd. "What about the crocodiles?"
"Oh, murder!" cried Joe. "I forgot all about them. Well, never mind.
This aren't no time to be nice. It's got to be done, so here goes."
Rodd seized one of the poles, and going right to the bows knelt down in
the bottom, and holding the pole lance fashion, prepared to try and use
it.
"That won't be no good, my lad," cried Joe. "Now, my lads--one, two,
three! Off she goes!"
They ran the gig quickly down the muddy slope, and as they touched the
water and the foremost part began to float they took another step or
two, gave her a final thrust, and sprang in, just as Rodd realised the
truth of the sailor's words, for as they glided out with tremendous
force, before they were a dozen yards from the water's edge the gig's
stem collided just behind two muddy-looking prominences that appeared
above the surface of the water, and as the shock sent the boy backwards
over the next thwart the boat, which was bounding up and down with the
result of the men springing in, received another shock from something
dark which rose out of the water, and then they glided on past a
tremendous ebullition and were carried onward by the rising tide.
"Here, let me come, Mr Rodd," cried Joe Cross, as he scrambled forward.
"Here, catch hold, sir, and help me drag my jersey over my head. The
brute's stove us in, and if I don't look sharp--Pull, sir, pull--right
over my head! That's got it," he cried, and he set to work thrusting
the woollen knitted shirt bit by bit along between the edges of two of
the planks, through which the water was rapidly gurgling in. "There,"
he said; "that'll keep some on it out; but don't all on you stand
looking at me as if I was playing a conjuring trick. Get a couple of
those poles over the sides. Nay, nay, it's no use to try to punt.
Dessay the water's fathoms deep. Just keep her head straight, and let
the tide carry us on. Look out, my lads! There's another of them up
yonder. See, Mr Rodd, sir--them two nubbles? Them's his eyes. He
just keeps his beautiful muddy carcase all hid under water and squints
along the top with them pretty peepers of hisn to look out for his
breakfast. Keep back, sir; I believe he's coming on at us, big as the
boat is. Oh, this is a pretty place, upon my word! He means me,
because he can see my white skin."
Instead of answering, Rodd picked up the bamboo pole, which had been
jerked from his hands when they encountered the other reptile.
Three of the men followed his example of holding them ready to strike at
what they could see of the crocodile, and as they were carried closer by
the tide and Rodd could just make out below the muddy surface that the
water was being stirred by the undulation of the tail of the monster,
which was apparently fourteen or fifteen feet long, three poles were
sharply thrust together, two of them coming in contact with the
creature's head just behind its eyes.
The blows were heavy, having behind them the weight and impetus of the
loaded boat, and once more there was a tremendous swirl in the water, as
the crocodile raised its head right out, turned completely over,
displaying its pallid buff under portion, and then curved itself over,
and in the act of diving down threw up its tail and struck the surface
of the water with a blow that deluged the occupants of the cutter with
spray.
"Well," cried Joe, as the boat glided on, "I don't know what you chaps
think of it, but I am getting warm again, and I call this 'ere sport.
But I say, Mr Rodd, I am beginning to wish you was aboard the _Maid of
Salcombe_, and you'd took me with you."
"Same 'ere, sir," cried the men, in chorus.
"See any more, Mr Rodd?"
"No, not yet, Joe."
"Well, there's no hurry, sir. Let's get our breath. But do you call
this 'ere fishing or shooting?"
"There's another," cried Rodd excitedly; "but it's going the other way."
"Got to know perhaps, sir, how we upset t'other. But we can spare him,
for I'll be bound to say there's plenty more of them. Now I wonder what
they are all for--pretty creatures!"
"What they are for, Joe?" cried Rodd, without taking his eyes from the
surface of the muddy stream which was carrying them onward.
"Yes, sir; I don't see as they are much good. I say, there's another
one! No, he's ducked his head down. Ah, he's coming up again. Look
out, my lads!" cried the man. "I wish there was another pole. There's
nothing left for me but my knife, and they are as hard as shoehorns, I
know. I don't want to break my whittle against his skin. No, he's
going to let us go by. Ah! Look out!"
For as they drew nearer the sun flashed off the reptile's muddy skin,
and they could see it glide round rapidly and strike two tremendous
blows on the surface with its serrated tail--blows that had been
probably directed at the boat, but which fell short, while in its blind
stupidity it kept on thrashing the water several times after the vessel
had passed.
"Ahoy! Ahoy!" came from somewhere, seeming to echo from the trees that
covered the bank.
"Ahoy! Ahoy!" shouted Joe Cross back. "Why, that means help, sir. The
brig must be lying there, just round that bend beyond the trees."
"Oh no," cried Rodd excitedly. "We must have gone down miles with the
tide."
"Ahoy! Ahoy!" came again. "Boat ahoy!" from somewhere out of sight;
and glancing back Rodd made out that they were passing along what seemed
to be a rapid bend.
"Ahoy!" was shouted back, and then all at once, to the astonishment of
the sufferers, a couple of boats came into sight from right astern,
their occupants sending the spray flying as they bent to their oars and
seemed to be racing to overtake the gig.
For the moment the boats, quite a quarter of a mile behind, took up all
their attention, and Rodd stood up in the bows waving his hand wildly.
"There's Uncle Paul, and the skipper, in one!" he cried.
"Ay, ay, my lad; that's our old man," shouted Joe.
"And there's the Count, and eight men rowing hard, in the other, but--
but--oh, I say, Morny isn't there!"
"Oh, he's being skipper and taking care of the brig, sir," cried Joe
sharply, as he noted the boy's disappointed tone of voice.
"No, he isn't," shouted Rodd, signalling with his pole, as he saw one of
the rowers rise up in the brig's boat and begin waving an oar; "he's
pulling with the men!" And his voice sounded hoarse and choking, while,
realising this fact, the boy coughed loudly and forcibly, as if to clear
his throat.
"Here, you've ketched a cold, Mr Rodd, sir," cried Joe. "But never
mind them behind in the boats. They'll ketch us up soon. There's
another of them beauties coming at us. The beggars do seem hungry this
morning. We hardly seed any of them when we were coming up yesterday.
Why, of course, this is their breakfast-time, and the sight of us has
made them peckish. Now then, all together, lads! Let him have it."
Four poles were thrust together, with somewhat similar effects to those
on the last occasion, for the onset of the great reptile was diverted,
the boat's head turned aside, and the blows aimed at them by the
creature's tail fell short, though to the men's dismay their efforts had
driven them towards another of the monsters, which was gliding towards
them from their left.
But here again they successfully turned the creature aside, and Rodd
exclaimed--
"Suppose we missed!"
"Oh, the beggars are too big to miss, sir," cried Briggs. "But suppose
we did; what then, sir?"
"I don't know," cried Rodd excitedly. "What do you say, Joe?"
"I don't know, sir. I never learned crocodile at school, though there
was one in my spelling-book, and I 'member I couldn't understand why a
four-legged chap like him, as lived in the water, should make a nest and
lay eggs like a bird. Here, Harry, let me handle that pole for a few
minutes. I should like to have a turn. Thank you, lad," he continued.
"Yes, they're rum beasts, Mr Rodd, sir, and I dare say they are very
slippery; but I don't suppose I shall miss the next one--Ah! Would
yer!" he shouted as one of the reptiles rose suddenly, open-mouthed,
close to the boat's head.
As the man spoke he made a heavy thrust with his pole, his companions
having no time to take aim, and the next moment the hideous jaws snapped
to, there was a fresh swirl, the bamboo pole was jerked out of Joe's
hand, and he would have overbalanced himself and gone overboard had not
those nearest to him seized him and snatched him back.
"Well, now," he cried, "just look at that!" For about half of the
bamboo remained visible and went sailing up the stream.
Just then there was the sharp report of a gun from behind, followed by
another, while before there was time for re-loading there was the loud
_crack, crack_ of a double fowling-piece.
"Hurrah! That's uncle!" cried Rodd. "They are firing at the
crocodiles, and it will be with bullets."
"And sarve them jolly well right, Mr Rodd, say I," cried Joe, "for I
call it taking a mean advantage of a man to sneak off like that with his
pole. Why, look at him, sir. He's having a regular lark with it--
picking his teeth, or something. Look how he's waggling the top of it
about. What do you say to try and steer after him and get it back?"
"Ugh! No!" cried Rodd. "It would be madness."
"Well, not quite so bad as that, sir. Say about half-cracked; and
that's about what I'm beginning to think. I say, they are getting all
the fun behind there."
"Look out; here comes another!" cried Rodd, for there was a pair of eyes
in front gliding rapidly towards them just above the water, but
apparently not satisfied with the appearance of the boat, or perhaps
less ravenous, the two prominences softly disappeared before they were
close up, and Joe Cross, evidently divining what might happen, suddenly
caught Rodd round the waist and forced him down into the bottom of the
boat.
"Look out, my lads!" he yelled.
As he spoke the hinder part of the boat began slowly to rise, showing
that they were gliding right over a reptile's back. Then it was turned
to starboard, the water coming almost to the edge; but as it glided on
it began to sink to the level again, just as it received a heavy shock
from below and was driven forward with a jerk just far enough to escape
a blow from a serrated tail which rose astern and showered the water
over them in so much blinding spray.
"Here, ahoy there!" shouted Joe. "Look alive, and bring up them guns!
There's more sport up here than we want. I wouldn't care, Mr Rodd, if
we had got our oars and my boat-hook. Nay, I don't know, though. It's
just as well I haven't, for I should be getting it stuck perhaps, and
never see that no more."
A few minutes after, while the firing was kept up from astern, the two
boats came up on either side, and amidst the heartiest of
congratulations Rodd cried--
"Ah, uncle, you have overtaken us at last! I am glad you have come!"
"Overtaken you, my boy! Why, we have been miles down the river towards
the mouth. We started as soon as the tide was slack enough for us to
leave the vessels. We must have passed you in the fog, and we were
beginning to despair. But we came upon one of the sailors' caps hanging
in a bough, when, thinking that perhaps we had gone too far, and Captain
Chubb feeling sure that you had run ashore somewhere in the darkness,
perhaps been carried right into the flooded forest, we came back and--"
He ceased speaking, took a quick aim over the side of the boat, and
discharged the contents of his double gun into the head of a reptile
which rose three or four yards away.
"The brutes!" he went on. "But there don't appear to be so many here.
We seem to have been coming through quite a shoal."
"There's plenty of them," growled the skipper, "but three boats together
scares them a bit. Here, my lads, lay hold of this line and make fast,
and we will give you a tow back to the schooner. We shan't be long
getting up to it with this tide. Why, hallo here! Not content with
losing the oars and boat-hook, you've been and got the gig stove in!
And the grapnel gone too! Here, you Joe Cross, what's the meaning of
all this?"
"I'll tell you about that, captain, by and by," said Rodd quickly.
"What's that? You want to come aboard, Morny? No, you had better not.
It's all muddy, and we shall have to begin baling. Pitch us in a couple
of tins."
"I'll bring them," cried the young Frenchman, rising in the boat.--"Yes,
my father, I wish to go. Hook on, and let me get aboard," he continued
to the French coxswain.
Half-an-hour later, with the men taking it in turns to bale, and with
the crocodiles seeming to have become more scarce, they ran up alongside
of the two anchored vessels, cheering and being cheered from the moment
they came into sight.
"Now, my lads," cried the doctor, "every one of you take what I'll mix
up for you directly, and have a good bathe and rub down. I am not going
to have you all down with fever if I can stave it off."