A BOLD STRATAGEM.
The rising sun awakened with his first rays the sleepers on the
Maunganamu. The Maoris for some time had been moving to and fro at the
foot of the peak without wandering from their post of observation.
Furious cries saluted the appearance of the Europeans as they issued
from the desecrated tomb.
Each cast a longing glance towards the surrounding mountains, the deep
valleys, still veiled in mist, and the surface of Lake Taupo, gently
rippling beneath the morning wind. Then all, eager to know Paganel's
new project, gathered around him with questioning looks; while the
geographer at once satisfied the restless curiosity of his companions.
"My friends," said he, "my project has this advantage, that if it does
not produce the result that I expect, or even fails, our situation will
not be impaired. But it ought to and will succeed."
"And this project?" asked the major.
"This is it," replied Paganel. "The superstition of the natives has
made this mountain a place of refuge, and this superstition must help
us to escape. If I succeed in convincing Kai-Koumou that we have become
the victims of our sacrilege, that the wrath of Heaven has fallen upon
us, in short, that we have met a terrible death, do you think that he
will abandon the mountain and return to his village?"
"Probably," said Glenarvan.
"And with what horrible death do you threaten us?" inquired Lady Helena.
"The death of the sacrilegious, my friends," continued Paganel. "The
avenging flames are under our feet. Let us open a way for them."
"What! you would make a volcano?" cried Captain Mangles.
"Yes, a factitious, an improvised one, whose fury we will control.
There is quite a supply of vapors and subterranean fires that only
ask for an outlet. Let us arrange an artificial eruption for our own
advantage."
"The idea is good," said the major, "and well conceived, Paganel."
"You understand," resumed the geographer, "that we are to feign being
consumed by the flames of Pluto, and shall disappear spiritually in the
tomb of Kara-Tété."
[Sidenote: A VOLCANO IN MINIATURE.]
"Where we shall remain three, four, or five days, if necessary, till
the savages are convinced of our death, and abandon the siege."
"But if they think of making sure of our destruction," said Miss Grant,
"and climb the mountain?"
"No, my dear Mary," replied Paganel, "they will not do that. The
mountain is tabooed, and if it shall itself devour its profaners the
taboo will be still more rigorous."
"This plan is really well conceived," remarked Glenarvan. "There is
only one chance against it, and that is, that the savages may persist
in remaining at the foot of the mountain till the provisions fail
us. But this is scarcely probable, especially if we play our part
skillfully."
"And when shall we make this last venture?" asked Lady Helena.
"This very evening," answered Paganel, "at the hour of the greatest
darkness."
"Agreed," said MacNabb. "Paganel, you are a man of genius; and although
from habit I am scarcely ever enthusiastic, I will answer for your
success. Ha! these rascals! we shall perform a little miracle for them
that will delay their conversion a good century. May the missionaries
pardon us!"
Paganel's plan was therefore adopted, and really, with the
superstitious notions of the Maoris, it might and ought to succeed.
It only remained to execute it. The idea was good, but in practice
difficult. Might not this volcano consume the audacious ones who should
dig the crater? Could they control and direct this eruption when the
vapors, flames, and lava should be let loose? Would it not engulf
the entire peak in a flood of fire? They were tampering with those
phenomena whose absolute control is reserved for forces higher than
theirs.
Paganel had foreseen these difficulties, but he expected to act
prudently, and not to venture to extremes. An illusion was enough to
deceive the Maoris, without the awful reality of a large eruption.
How long that day seemed! Each one counted the interminable hours.
Everything was prepared for flight. The provisions of the tomb had
been divided, and made into convenient bundles. Several mats, and the
fire-arms, which had been found in the tomb of the chief, formed light
baggage. Of course these preparations were made within the palisaded
inclosure and unknown to the savages.
At six o'clock the steward served a farewell feast. Where and when they
should eat in the valleys no one could foretell.
Twilight came on. The sun disappeared behind a bank of dense clouds of
threatening aspect. A few flashes illumined the horizon, and a distant
peal of thunder rumbled along the vault of the sky. Paganel welcomed
the storm that came to the aid of his design.
At eight o'clock the summit of the mountain was hidden by a foreboding
darkness, while the sky looked terribly black, as if for a background
to the flaming outbreak that Paganel was about to inaugurate. The
Maoris could no longer see their prisoners. The time for action had
come. Rapidity was necessary, and Glenarvan, Paganel, MacNabb, Robert,
the steward, and the two sailors at once set to work vigorously.
The place for the crater was chosen thirty paces from Kara-Tété's tomb.
It was important that this structure should be spared by the eruption,
for otherwise the taboo would become ineffective. Paganel had observed
an enormous block of stone, around which the vapors seemed to pour
forth with considerable force. This rocky mass covered a small natural
crater in the peak, and only by its weight prevented the escape of the
subterranean flames. If they could succeed in overturning it, the smoke
and lava would immediately issue through the unobstructed opening.
[Sidenote: VULCANS AT WORK.]
The fugitives made themselves levers out of the stakes of the tomb, and
with these they vigorously attacked the ponderous mass. Under their
united efforts the rock was not long in moving. They dug a sort of
groove for it down the side of the mountain, that it might slide on an
inclined plane.
As their action increased, the trembling of the earth became more
violent. Hollow rumblings and hissings sounded under the thin
crust. But the bold experimenters, like real Vulcans, governing the
underground fires, worked on in silence. Several cracks and a few gusts
of hot smoke warned them that their position was becoming dangerous.
But a final effort detached the block, which glided down the slope of
the mountain and disappeared.
The thin covering at once yielded. An incandescent column poured forth
towards the sky with loud explosions, while streams of boiling water
and lava rolled towards the encampment of the natives and the valleys
below. The whole peak trembled, and you might almost have thought that
it was disappearing in a general conflagration.
Glenarvan and his companions had scarcely time to escape the shock of
the eruption. They fled to the inclosure of the tomb, but not without
receiving a few scalding drops of the water, which bubbled and exhaled
a strong sulphureous odor.
Then mud, lava, and volcanic fragments mingled in the scene of
devastation. Torrents of flame furrowed the sides of the Maunganamu.
The adjoining mountains glowed in the light of the eruption, and the
deep valleys were illumined with a vivid brightness.
The savages were soon aroused, both by the noise and the heat
of the lava that flowed in a scalding tide through the midst of
their encampment. Those whom the fiery flood had not reached fled,
and ascended the surrounding hills, turning and gazing back at
this terrific phenomenon, with which their god, in his wrath, had
overwhelmed the desecrators of the sacred mountain; while at certain
moments they were heard howling their consecratory cry:
"Taboo! taboo! taboo!"
[Illustration: The fugitives made themselves levers out of the stakes
of the tomb.]
[Illustration: An incandescent column poured forth towards the sky with
loud explosions, while streams of boiling water and lava rolled towards
the encampment of the natives.]
Meantime an enormous quantity of vapor, melted stones, and lava had
escaped from the crater. It was no longer a simple geyser. All this
volcanic effervescence had hitherto been confined beneath the crust of
the peak, since the outlets of Tangariro sufficed for its expansion;
but as a new opening had been made, it had rushed forth with extreme
violence.
All night long, during the storm that raged above and below, the peak
was shaken with a commotion that could not but alarm Glenarvan. The
prisoners, concealed behind the palisade of the tomb, watched the
fearful progress of the outbreak.
Morning came. The fury of the volcano had not moderated. Thick,
yellowish vapors mingled with the flames, and torrents of lava poured
in every direction. Glenarvan, with eye alert and beating heart,
glanced between the interstices of the inclosure, and surveyed the camp
of the Maoris.
The natives had fled to the neighboring plateaus, beyond the reach of
the volcano. Several corpses, lying at the foot of the peak, had been
charred by the fire. Farther on, towards the pah, the lava had consumed
a number of huts, that were still smoking. The savages, in scattered
groups, were gazing at the vapory summit of Maunganamu with religious
awe.
Kai-Koumou came into the midst of his warriors, and Glenarvan
recognized him. The chief advanced to the base of the peak, on the side
spared by the eruption, but did not cross the first slopes. Here, with
outstretched arms, like a sorcerer exorcising, he made a few grimaces,
the meaning of which did not escape the prisoners. As Paganel had
foreseen, Kai-Koumou was invoking upon the mountain a more rigorous
taboo.
Soon after, the natives descended, in single file, the winding paths
that led towards the pah.
[Sidenote: A WEARY WAITING.]
"They are going!" cried Glenarvan. "They are abandoning their post!
God be thanked! Our scheme has succeeded! My dear Helena, my brave
companions, we are now dead and buried; but this evening we will
revive, we will leave our tomb, and flee from these barbarous tribes!"
It would be difficult to describe the joy that reigned within the
palisade. Hope had reanimated all hearts. These courageous travelers
forgot their past trials, dreaded not the future, and only rejoiced in
their present deliverance; although very little reflection would show
how difficult was the task of reaching an European settlement from
their present position. But if Kai-Koumou was outwitted, they believed
themselves safe from all the savages of New Zealand.
A whole day must pass before the decisive attempt could be made, and
they employed their time in arranging a plan of escape. Paganel had
preserved his map of New Zealand, and could therefore search out the
safest routes.
After some discussion, the fugitives resolved to proceed eastward
towards the Bay of Plenty. This course would lead them through
districts that were very rarely visited. The travelers, who were
already accustomed to overcoming natural difficulties, only feared
meeting the Maoris. They therefore determined to avoid them at all
hazards, and gain the eastern coast, where the missionaries have
founded several establishments. Moreover, this portion of the island
had hitherto escaped the ravages of the war and the depredations of the
natives. As for the distance that separated Lake Taupo from the Bay of
Plenty, it could not be more than one hundred miles. Ten days would
suffice for the journey. The missions once reached, they could rest
there, and wait for some favorable opportunity of gaining Auckland,
their destination.
These points being settled, they continued to watch the savages till
evening. Not one of them remained at the foot of the mountain, and
when darkness invaded the valleys of the lake, no fire betokened the
presence of the Maoris at the base of the peak. The coast was clear.
At nine o'clock it was dark night, and Glenarvan gave the signal for
departure. His companions and he, armed and equipped at Kara-Tété's
expense, began to cautiously descend the slopes of the Maunganamu.
Captain Mangles and Wilson led the way, with eyes and ears on the
alert. They stopped at the least sound,--they examined the faintest
light; each slid down the declivity, the better to elude detection.
Two hundred feet below the summit, Captain Mangles and his sailor
reached the dangerous ridge that had been so obstinately guarded by the
natives. If, unfortunately, the Maoris, more crafty than the fugitives,
had feigned a retreat to entice them within reach, if they had not
been deceived by the eruption, their presence would be discovered
at this point. Glenarvan, in spite of his confidence and Paganel's
pleasantries, could not help trembling. The safety of his friends was
at stake during the few moments necessary to cross the ridge. He felt
Lady Helena's heart beat as she clung to his arm.
But neither he nor Captain Mangles thought of retreating. The young
captain, followed by the others, and favored by the dense obscurity,
crawled along the narrow path, only stopping when some detached stone
rolled to the base of the mountain. If the savages were still in
ambush, these unusual sounds would provoke from each side a formidable
volley.
However, in gliding like serpents along this inclined crest, the
fugitives could not advance rapidly. When Captain Mangles had gained
the lowest part, scarcely twenty-five feet separated him from the
plain where the natives had encamped the night before. Here the ridge
ascended quite steeply towards a coppice about a quarter of a mile
distant.
[Sidenote: TABOOED NO LONGER.]
The travelers crossed this place without accident, and began the
ascent in silence. The thicket was invisible, but they knew where it
was, and, provided no ambuscade was laid there, Glenarvan hoped to
find a secure refuge. However, he remembered that they were now no
longer protected by the taboo. The ascending ridge did not belong to
the sacred mountain, but to a chain that ran along the eastern shores
of Lake Taupo. Therefore not only the shots of the savages, but also a
hand-to-hand conflict, were to be feared.
For a short time the little party slowly mounted towards the upper
elevations. The captain could not yet discern the dark coppice, but it
could not be more than two hundred feet distant.
Suddenly he stopped, and almost recoiled. He thought he heard some
sound in the darkness. His hesitation arrested the advance of his
companions.
He stood motionless long enough to alarm those who followed him. With
what agonizing suspense they waited could not be described. Would they
be forced to return to the summit of the mountain?
But, finding that the noise was not repeated, their leader continued
his ascent along the narrow path. The coppice was soon dimly defined
in the gloom. In a few moments it was reached, and the fugitives were
crouching beneath the thick foliage of the trees.