Queen Bertha of the Isle of Flowers had industriously laboured among her
people. It gave her pleasure to do so. She even taught them English,
which all could now speak after a fashion.
Well, while Dickson and Hall were drilling a small company of blacks as
soldiers, and trying to make them experts in the use of the rifle--for
they had over a score of these to spare--Reginald spent much of his time
on the hills with his gun, shooting small wild pigs, rock-rabbits,
tuen-tuens, etc. He was always accompanied by Ilda, merry Matty, and
Oscar the Newfoundland. No matter where a wild bird fell, in river or
lake, or in the bush, Oscar found it, and laid it at his master's feet.
But one day Reginald, while shooting, made a singular discovery indeed.
Far up in the hills they came upon the grass hut of a very peculiar old
man indeed. Before reaching the place quite, they met three natives,
and they were evidently intoxicated, staggering, laughing, singing and
dancing.
The old man was seated in his doorway. Around his hut were at least a
dozen huge clay jars, with clay lids, and these contained beer of some
sort. He was the most hideous old wretch that Reginald had yet clapped
eyes on. Even Matty was terrified, and hugged the great dog round the
neck as she gazed on that awful-looking and repulsive creature.
"These jars," said Reginald, "evidently contain some intoxicating drink.
And the old brewer doesn't look a beauty, nor a saint either!"
Nor did he. Here he is, as I myself have seen him more than once.
Squatting tailor-fashion outside the door of his dark and windowless
hut, a man with a mop of rough silvery hair, thin lips, drawn back into
a grin, so that one could see all his awful teeth--tusks they really
seemed to be, each one filed into a pointed triangle, the better to tear
human flesh. They were stained red. His eyes were red also, and like
those of some scared wild beast and cheeks and brow were covered with
symmetrical scars. But he was a brewer, and very busy plying his trade.
Beside him were open cocoa-nuts and bunches of fragrant herbs.
"Go on," said Reginald; "don't let us interfere with business, pray."
The horrid creature put a huge lump of cocoa-nut into his mouth, then
some herbs, and chewed the lot together; then taking a mouthful of water
from a chatty, he spat the whole mass into a jar and proceeded as
before. This awful mess of chewed cocoa-nut, herbs, and saliva ferments
into a kind of spirit. This is poured off and mixed with water, and lo!
the beer of the cannibal islanders!
Reginald, noticing a strange-looking chain hanging across the old man's
scarred and tattooed chest, begged to examine it. To his astonishment,
it consisted entirely of beautiful pearls and small nuggets of gold.
"Where did this come from, my man?"
"Ugh! I catchee he plenty twick. Plenty mo'. Ver' mooch plenty."
Reginald considered for a moment. Money was no good to an old wretch
like this, but he wore around his waist a beautiful crimson sash. This
he divested himself of, and held it up before the cannibal brewer.
"I will give you this for your chain," he said, "and another as good
to-morrow, if you will come now and show us where you find these
things."
The old man at once threw the chain at Reginald's feet, and seized the
scarf delightedly.
"I come quick--dis moment!" he cried. And he was as good as his word.
It was a long walk, and a wild one. Sometimes Reginald carried Matty;
sometimes she rode on the great dog. But they arrived at last at the
entrance to a gloomy defile, and here in the hillsides were openings
innumerable, evidently not made by hands of man. Here, however, was an
El Dorado. Caves of gold! for numerous small nuggets were found on the
floors and shining in the white walls around them.
It was evident enough that it only needed digging and a little hard work
to make a pile from any single one of these caves.
Next about the pearls. The old savage took the party to the riverside.
He waded in, and in five minutes had thrown on shore at least a hundred
pearl oysters. These, on coming to bank, he opened one by one, and ten
large and beautiful white pearls were found, with ever so many
half-faced ones.
Strange and wondrous indeed was the story that Reginald Grahame had to
relate in private to Mr Hall and Captain Dickson on his return to his
home by the sea.
At present the trio kept the secret to themselves. That gold was to be
had for the gathering was evident enough. But to share it with six men
was another question. It might be better, at all events, if they were
first and foremost to make their own pile. Anyhow, the men's services
might be required; in that case they could choose their own claims,
unless Reginald claimed the whole ravine. This he was entitled to do,
but he was very far indeed from being mean and greedy.
But so intricate was the way to the ravine of gold that without a guide
no one could possibly find it.
For six whole weeks no gold digging was thought about. Matters of even
greater import occupied the minds of the white men.
The company of blacks was beautifully drilled by this time, and made
fairly good marksmen with the rifle. They were, indeed, the boldest and
bravest on the island, and many of them the Queen's own bodyguards.
Well, the bay enclosed by the reefs on one of which the _Wolverine_ had
struck was the only landing-place in the whole island. Every other part
of the shore was guarded by precipitous rocks a thousand feet high at
least, rising sheer and black out of the ocean. The Armada must come
here, then, if anywhere; and, moreover, the bay faced the enemy's own
island, although, with the exception of a mountain peak or two, seen
above the horizon, it was far too distant to be visible.
A grass watch-tower was built on the brow of a hill, and a sentry
occupied this by night as well as by day. Only keen-eyed blacks were
chosen for this important duty, and they were told that if any
suspicious sign was observed they must communicate immediately with
Captain Dickson.
And now, facing the sea, a strong palisaded fort was built, and
completely clayed over, so as to be almost invisible from the sea. It
was roofed over with timber, as a protection against the enemy's arrows;
it was also loop-holed for rifles, and here, moreover, were mounted the
two six-pounders. Plenty of ammunition for both rifles and guns was
placed at a safe distance from the ports.
One evening the sentry ran below to report that, seeing a glare in the
sky, he had climbed high up the mountain side, and by aid of the
night-glass could see that fires were lighted on the brow of every low
hill on the enemy's island, and that savages in rings were wildly
dancing around them. The sentry had no doubt that the attack on the
Isle of Flowers would soon follow this. Dickson thanked the man
heartily for his attention, gave him coffee and biscuit, and sent him
back to the sentry hut. So kind was the captain, and so interested in
the welfare of the blacks, that any one of those he had trained would
have fought at fearful odds for him. For kindness towards, a savage
soon wins his heart, and his respect as well.
Three days more passed by--oh, so slowly and wearily! For a cloud
hovered over the camp that the white men tried in vain to dispel. There
was this fearful Armada to face and to fight, and the anxiety born of
thinking about it was harder to bear than the actual battle itself would
be.
Dickson was a strictly pious man. Never a morning and never an evening
passed without his summoning his men to prayers, and in true Scottish
fashion reading a portion from the little Bible which, like General
Gordon, he never failed to carry in his bosom.
I think he did good. I think he made converts. Mind, without any
preaching. He simply led these darkened intellects to the Light, the
glorious Light of revealed religion.
The portion of the fort where the guns were placed was so fashioned as
to be able to cover a wide space of sea on both sides, and from this
arrangement Dickson expected great results.
A whole week had worn away since the first fires had been seen from the
hilltop; but every night those fires had blazed.
It was evident enough the enemy was endeavouring to propitiate their
gods before sailing. For by day, on climbing a mountain, Dickson, by
means of his large telescope, could see on the beach that human
sacrifices were being offered up.
It was fearful to behold. Men, or perhaps women, were chained to stakes
on the beach, and pyres of wood built around them. As the fire curled
up through the smoke in tongues, he could see the wretches writhing in
agony, while round them danced the spear-armed savages.
Reginald had little to do at present, and would have but little to do
until summoned to tight. So he was often at the Queen's palace, and a
very delightful conversationalist she proved herself to be. She had
avowed her intention of being at the great battle herself. Her
presence, and the sway of her pole-like sceptre, she assured the doctor,
would give her people confidence, and mayhap be the turning point which
would lead to victory.
Many a ramble together had Reginald and Ilda, nearly always followed by
sweet wee Matty and her canine favourite Oscar.
One day, however, Matty was at the seaside camp, and Reginald went out
with Ilda alone to collect bouquets for the Queen's table. The day was
a hot one, but both were young, and when they zigzagged up a mountain
side they found not only shade on a green mound beneath some spreading
trees, but coolness as well.
All this morning Reginald had been thinking sorrowfully about his lost
love, as he now called Annie, and of the country he never expected again
to see, because never did ships visit this unknown island unless driven
hither by storm or tempest.
But now there was the soft and dreamy light of love in Ilda's eyes, if
ever there were in a woman's.
Reginald was very far indeed from being unfaithful at heart to his
betrothed, but--well, he could not help thinking how strangely beautiful
Ilda was. When she leant towards him and gave one coy glance into his
face, it might have been but passion--I cannot say; it might be budding
love. At all events, he drew her to his breast and kissed those red
lips over and over again, she blushing, but unresisting as before.
What he might have said I do not know. But at that moment a half-naked
armed savage burst hurriedly in upon the scene.
"Come, sah, come; de capatin he sendee me. De bad black mans' war
canoes dey is coming, too. Plenty big boat, plenty spear and bow."
Reginald thought no more of love just then. His Scottish blood was on
fire, and when he had seen Ilda safe in the palace he bade her an
affectionate but hurried farewell, and hurried away to the front.
The Armada was coming in deadly earnest, and no one in the Isle of
Flowers could even guess how matters might end.