MR. HAAN
'Sprinkle a little water on his face, Meek,' said Trentham, indicating
the rescued prisoner, who lay unconscious where he had fallen. 'Only a
little--we have none to spare.'
'Tickle his nose,' suggested Hoole. 'Trentham, I 'll take a look round;
we may be on the edge of a hornets' nest.'
'Don't lose yourself, man. In fact, you 'd better not go out of sight.
It mayn't be safe to call to each other.'
The rays of the moon, now high over the sea, lit up their immediate
surroundings. From the cliff edge to an irregular row of palms a few
yards back, low-growing plants carpeted the ground. On one side of the
chimney they were trodden down, and a faintly marked track was
discernible until it disappeared among the trees. No sound broke the
stillness except the wash of the surf two hundred feet below, and an
occasional deep booming note from some distant spot in the forest, which
Trentham identified as the call of the cassowary.
'"Saved his bacon!" Mr. Hoole said: 'tis a true word,' remarked Grinson.
'Which I mean to say, you saved him from being turned into bacon,
sir--or ham. He 'd have cut up very well.'
He stood at Trentham's side, looking down at the man whom Meek was
trying to restore to consciousness--a brawny figure, clad in duck
trousers and a white flannel shirt, with a linen collar and a blue tie.
His features were heavy, his skin was deeply browned. The crown of his
head was almost entirely bald, but a thick growth of short brown hair
clothed his lips, cheeks, and chin.
'The very picter of Captain Lew Summers as once I sailed with,' Grinson
went on. 'How 'd he get in this mess, sir?'
'I don't know,' replied Trentham. 'He hasn't said a word.'
He thought he saw the man's eyelids flicker.
'He 's coming to, sir,' said Meek, from the ground.
'Lift his head, Ephraim,' said Grinson. 'I 'm speckylating whether his
first word 'll be a curse or a blessing.'
The man slowly opened his eyes, but it seemed to Trentham, watching him
intently, that he had more command over himself than might have been
expected in a man recovering from a swoon. He glanced from Meek to
Grinson, then to Trentham, and raising himself on his elbows looked
along the track that led among the trees.
'Feel better?' asked Trentham.
[Illustration: 'FEEL BETTER?']
For a moment he did not reply; then slowly and with a curiously thick
utterance, he said:--
'Yes. You save me? Dank you.
'Not at all. Couldn't leave a white man in the hands of niggers, you
know. Can you get up?'
'I dink so.' With Trentham's assistance he struggled to his feet.
'Yes. Widout you I am killed--and eat! Ach!'
'You are not an Englishman?'
'Dutch. Mate of a trade schooner dat was wrecked up de coast.'
'And the rest of the crew?'
'Dead--dead; all but me. I swim strong.'
Grinson glanced at the Dutchman's trousers, then at Meek.
'Yes, but what good?' the man went on. 'De niggers capture me. Widout
you, my friend--Ach! Dey make me climb down; at de height of de
moon'--(he shuddered). 'Yes, I know dem, widout you I am killed and
eat. I dank you.'
'Well, it was uncommonly lucky we happened to be hereabouts,' said
Trentham. 'We were in a ticklish situation ourselves.'
'Wrecked?'
The moonlight glinted on a pair of very keen eyes.
'No, we were sunk by a German raider. The boat we got away in, four of
us, only escaped a shell by a hair's breadth. Did you sight the
ruffians?'
'No. My schooner was wrecked up de coast. You escaped a shell!
Wonderful! And you go, where?'
'We don't know. We only got ashore yesterday, and couldn't find a way
up the cliffs till we discovered this crack.'
'I help you. Yes, it is a pleasure to do something for dem what save
me. Dis coast, I know it a little. I was here before, since ten years,
when I come wid expedition for search of--of copper. You listen to me;
I show you. You go to Friedrich Wilhelmshafen; it is de German
port----'
'Axing your pardon, mister,' Grinson interposed, 'you been a long
voyage, surely. There ain't no German ports in New Guinea nowadays, and
I lay that port have got a new name that don't break your jaw to say.'
The stranger turned his eyes on Grinson for a moment, then went on:
'It is a long way--a journey of eight or ten days. I show you. Dere is
needed great care. De niggers--cannibals--you see dem. Always must we
watch, and wid luck--I say wid luck--we do not fall into deir hands.
Dey have villages along de coast--de coast is very dangerous, and we
must go drough de forest.'
'Aren't there villages in the forest?' asked Trentham.
'In de mountains, yes,' said the Dutchman, waving an arm towards the
interior. 'De coast and de mountains, dey must we avoid equally.'
'And the niggers on the beach there--where is their village?'
'On de coast somewhere, I know not where. Dey carry me far from de
place where I was wrecked--five days.'
'I 'm glad of that. I mean I 'm glad we aren't near their place; it
gives us a better chance. Ah! here 's the fourth of our party.'
Hoole had just reappeared at the edge of forest. 'My name is Trentham,
by the way; my friend yonder is Mr. Hoole; these friends of ours, men of
your own calling, are Mr. Grinson and Mr. Meek.'
'Yes. My name is Haan--H-a-a-n.'
Wondering why he had spelled the name, Trentham turned to Hoole, who had
just come up.
'I followed the track some distance,' said Hoole. 'Nothing doing,
except that a fiendish leech dropped on me from a tree, I suppose, and
did himself rather well, confound him!' He showed his wrist. 'The
beast has opened a vein, and I knew nothing about it until I got back
into the moonlight and wondered how on earth I 'd cut my wrist. But
there 's no sign of natives.'
Meek heaved a sign of satisfaction. Having introduced the Dutchman and
explained his plight, Trentham went on:
'I think we had better get out of this at once. We haven't heard a
sound from below, which suggests--doesn't it?--that the savages know
another way up, probably far away. The track must lead to their village,
so we 'll avoid that. Mr. Haan knows something of the country, and has
offered to guide us to--what is it?'
'Friedrich Wilhelmshafen,' said Haan.
'A reg'lar tongue-twister, sir,' said Grinson. 'But it 'll change its
name, like a woman, for better--couldn't be for worse!'
'Do we strike east or west?' asked Hoole.
'East,' replied Haan. 'I dink we should go an hour or two while the
moon is up, den rest till morning.'
'Are there any beasts of the earth that do go forth and seek their prey
by night?' asked Meek.
'Not in dis country,' the Dutchman answered. 'Dere are no dangerous
beasts except de cannibals, and dey will not walk when the moon is down.
We go, den; I show de way.'
Haan gazed into the sky, then went to the brink of the cliff and looked
out to sea and along the coast in both directions.
'I take my bearings,' he said, returning. 'Now we start.'
He struck off almost at right angles to the native track, but instead of
entering the forest strode along at a moderate pace just outside its
edge, at an average distance of thirty feet from the cliff. The rest
followed him in single file, Trentham leading, Meek bringing up the
rear. They had taken only a few steps when Grinson halted until Meek
reached his side.
'Trousers!' he said in a falsetto whisper.
'What did you say, Mr. Grinson?' asked Meek, dropping his voice to
match.
'Trousers, Ephraim--the Dutchman's. Didn't you notice 'em?'
'Well, he do have a pair, as is only decent, but I can't truthfully say
as I noticed anything partickler about their rig.'
'Where are your eyes, Ephraim? I 'm surprised at you! He said he swam
ashore.'
'True. "I swim strong," was his words, and I can believe it, his arms
and legs being such.'
'D' you believe he took his trousers off, then? S'pose he did--wouldn't
they show? If you 'd used your eyes, Ephraim, me lad, you 'd 'a seen as
there weren't no sign of sea-water on them trousers. 'Tis my belief
they 've never been near water since they left the washtub.'
Meek looked in a puzzled way into the boatswain's eyes. Grinson winked,
jerked his arm in the direction of the Dutchman, then, edging a little
closer to Meek, put his head over his mouth, and whispered:
'Cut the painter.'
'What painter?'
'Hopped the twig, as they say in the dear old New Cut where I was born.
Deserted, Ephraim.'
'Never!' Meek ejaculated. 'What for would he desert in a land of
cannibals?'
'What do men desert for? Anything--nothing! You mind that time Ben
Scruddles hooked it at Noo York? What for?'
'Well, 'twas a long time ago, and I don't rightly remember, but I 'd say
'twas because Ben didn't like the skipper's red hair.'
'Might 'a been part of it, but the main thing was that Ben was just
tired--tired o' the skipper, tired o' reg'lar hours and ever-lasting
dooty, tired of every blessed thing--like a horse as jibs and swears he
won't pull the blessed cart another blessed inch. Anything for a change.
I lay my life the Dutchman got it bad, and fancied a change. Cannibals
is nothing when you feel like that; I 've felt like it myself.'
They had lagged while talking, and Hoole, looking over his shoulder,
called:
'Now, men, keep up! We don't want to lose you. The moon 's going
down.'
'Ay, ay, sir!' replied Grinson, in his usual bellow. 'Ephraim was
talking, and he never could do two things at wunst.'
Haan meanwhile had trudged steadily on, making his path through the
undergrowth that skirted the forest. The rankness of the vegetation and
the uneven surface of the ground made progress very slow. It seemed to
Trentham easier going near the cliff edge, where the plants were less
tall; but when he made the suggestion, Haan at once rejected it.
'We go safer out of sight from de sea,' he said.
Only the swishing of their feet, a rustle as some small animal was
disturbed, now and then a squeal from among the trees, broke the deep
silence of the tropical night. The air was chill, but walking kept the
men pleasantly warm. Gradually the moon stole down the sky behind them,
and when it had disappeared Haan called a halt.
'Now we rest,' he said. 'In morning we go into de forest, until we see
a hill; seamen call it Mushroom Hill, because it look like one when dey
see it from de sea. When we see it, we go quicker.'
The sailors dropped their burdens, and beat down the vegetation over a
space some twelve feet square. Here they all stretched themselves, and
made a frugal supper. Haan helped himself to biscuits more often than
Grinson liked. For a while the boatswain said nothing; at last,
however, drawing the mouth of the bag together, he ventured:
'Beg pardon, sir--'twas eight days, I think you said, to the port we 're
making for?'
'Yes, eight or nine,' replied Haan.
Grinson pressed down the loose end of the bag, and, exhibiting the bulk,
said:
'Biscuits won't last three, Mr. Trentham, and short rations at that.'
'We get food in de forest--plenty,' said Haan.
'I 'm glad to hear that,' said Trentham. 'This one bag was all that we
had time to snatch up when we took to the boat. The old piracy was
gentlemanly compared with the new. As a seaman, Mr. Haan, you must feel
pretty much disgusted at the dirty tricks the Germans are playing.'
'It is war,' said Haan, with a shrug. 'De ways of war, like everyding
else, dey change.'
'They do indeed!' cried Trentham. 'In the old days you could fight and
then shake hands; but I 'm hanged if anybody will ever want to shake
hands with a German after all this devilry!'
'That's sure!' said Hoole. 'Take me for one. I 'm a citizen of the
United States, and war 's not precisely our trade; but after what I 've
seen, I 'm going to take a hand, if any one will have me--and I get
clear of this New Guinea.'
'And I was on my way to join up,' added Trentham. 'The Raider has only
made me extra keen.'
Haan grunted, and changed the subject by suggesting that they should
take turns in watching through the remaining hours of the night. They
were not near a village, he thought, but it was as well to adopt
precautions in a land where enemies might lurk in every bush. Trentham
proposed that the seamen, having loads to carry, should be let off, and
it was in fact arranged that the guard should be shared by Hoole, Haan,
and himself. Each would have about an hour's duty.
They were not disturbed. As soon as dawn streaked the sky they were
afoot. Haan, after a preliminary scanning of the sea and as much of the
coastline as was visible, plunged among the trees, followed in single
file by the rest. Birds chattered with shrill cries from tree and bush,
and in the half light shadowy forms darted up the trunks. Under foot
all was damp; moisture dripped from every leaf, and the air was full of
the odour of rotting vegetation.
'Hadn't we better stick to the cliff?' asked Trentham, dismayed at the
prospect of hours of toilsome march in such an atmosphere and with
twining plants clogging their steps.
'De coast winds--we save miles and miles,' said Haan briefly.
Trentham could only defer to his guide's judgment, but he felt anxious,
ill at ease. He took little heed of the strange scenes through which he
was passing--the graceful palms, the fantastic screw pines, trees
propped on aerial roots, trees surrounded by natural buttresses
springing from the trunk twenty feet above the ground. He had no eye
for the orchids festooned from tree to tree, or the gorgeous blooms that
hung from branches high above his head. Many-hued parrots, white
cockatoos, birds of paradise, tree kangaroos, all were barely noticed,
so much preoccupied was he with troublous thought. How could Haan find
his way through the trackless forest? What defence had they against the
natives whom they were sure to meet sooner or later? Could they survive
a week's travelling and camping in an atmosphere so fetid and unhealthy?
But he kept his thoughts to himself, and even gave a reassuring nod to
Grinson, when the boatswain murmured that he saw no sign of food.
'Mr. Haan told us he had been in these parts before,' he said. 'We must
trust him.'
As they penetrated deeper into the forest the undergrowth became more
and more dense, and the order of their going was sometimes altered, each
seeking his own path. It usually happened that Haan assumed his place
as leader very quickly; but once, when Trentham and Hoole together had
forced their way through a mass of tangled vegetation, they found that
they had lost touch with him. To their surprise, they had emerged into
a comparatively clear space, beyond which they caught sight of the sea,
a dark motionless plain under a leaden sky. The beach was hidden from
them, but in front and to the left stretched the rugged contours of the
cliffs, while to the right, behind the trees, rose the tops of lofty
hills.
They were about to call for Haan, when Hoole's eye was arrested by a
cloud of smoke rising from beyond the edge of the cliff.
'By gum, Trentham!' he exclaimed. 'Is there a steamer below there?
Let's have a look!'
They went a few paces forward, and had just caught sight of a number of
dark figures moving up and down what appeared to be a steep slope,
perhaps a mile away, near the cloud, when Haan came panting up behind
them, and unceremoniously pulled them back.
'Shust in time!' he said in a husky whisper, rapidly, with every sign of
agitation. 'Vy--vy--vy did you leave me? You vill ruin every zing!'
'Sorry!' said Trentham, as the man continued to draw them back. 'What's
the matter?'
'Shust in time!' repeated the Dutchman, as if to himself; then, aloud,
and with his former slow, careful utterance: 'Dere, between us and dat
place, is de village of dose niggers what capture me.'
'That accounts for the smoke,' remarked Hoole. 'We 've escaped making a
bad bloomer, seemingly.'
'My word, shust in time!' said Haan. 'If I had not come! Dose
niggers--you saw dem--wild men, noding can tame dem, cannibals,
ferocious--if dey had seen us, dere would soon be noding of us but our
bones. Never, never leave me again!'
'It was quite accidental, Mr. Haan,' said Trentham. 'The bush was so
thick----'
'Yes, yes,' said the man impatiently, 'but we gain no time going
separate. I lead, you follow--remember dat!'
Trentham was inclined to resent a certain peremptoriness in the
Dutchman's tone, but, catching Hoole's eye, he held his peace.
'He 's a bit unstrung,' whispered Hoole, as they returned to the spot
where Haan had left the seamen, 'and I don't wonder. He doesn't want to
fall into their clutches a second time.'
Haan quickly recovered his equanimity, and for nearly two hours they
plodded on through the forest, keeping, apparently, the coast behind
them. Then suddenly, through a break in the trees, the expected
landmark loomed up on their left hand.
'Dat is Mushroom Hill,' said Haan. 'We now go quicker. We go round de
hill on de north side, and go quicker still--and safer. De niggers on de
oder side are not so fierce; dey do not eat men. Why? Dey are nearer
Friedrich Wilhelmshafen, and dey have felt de weight of de German hand.'
'Poor devils!' said Trentham involuntarily, and surprised a strange look
that gleamed for an instant in the Dutchman's eyes.
'Say, how far away is that hill of yours, Mr. Haan?' asked Hoole.
'Forty miles. We take dree days.'
'Well, I guess we 'll take a little food first. We shall have to rely on
our biscuits; we haven't happened on any orchards yet.'
'Plenty bread-fruit yonder,' said Haan, waving his arm towards the hill,
'and coco-palms, and pawpaws. Yes, we eat our lunch and rest. De sun
is bursting drough; it will be very hot. Last night we sleep little. A
nap--forty vinks you call it--will refresh us, den we go stronger.'
'A capital idea!' said Trentham. 'I say, Mr. Haan, it was lucky you
found us when you did.'
'Yes,' said Haan drily. 'But we must still be on guard. We must not
all sleep togeder.'
'Of course not. We 'll take turns again--we three. Let the men off.
They have the hardest job, though their loads will be lighter when we
start again. I 'll take first watch, then you, Hoole. Mr. Haan must be
more tired than we two.'
'It is no matter,' remarked Haan, 'and I am used to a hard life. I can
stand fatigue better than you two young gentlemen. But certainly I can
sleep wid pleasure. Two hours--dat will give forty minutes each. Yes;
and I haf no watch; de niggers strip off my coat. You wake me, Mr.
Hoole, and lend me your watch, so I wake you; and I give you no more dan
forty minutes--not one second.'
He laughed in a clumsily roguish way. They cleared a space and sat down
to their meal of biscuits and water. Haan was the first to throw
himself on his back, his bald head shaded by the spreading
candelabra-like branches of a screw pine. The rest were not slaw to
follow his example, except Trentham, who sat on the keg, and lit a
cigarette to keep himself awake.
Eighty minutes later Hoole, having completed his spell of watching,
touched Haan lightly on the shoulder. The man did not stir. He tickled
his ear with a spray of some feathery plant; Haan slept on.
'I 'll give him another five minutes,' thought Hoole, yawning.
At the end of that time, by dint of poking Haan in the ribs and pinching
his nose, he succeeded in waking the Dutchman.
'Awfully sorry!' he said, 'but I can scarcely keep my eyes open. Here
's my watch; be sure and not let me oversleep.'
Haan got up. His movements were slow and clumsy, but his eyes were keen
and alert.
'Forty minutes, Mr. Hoole,' he said with a smile. 'Not a second more.'
He did not sit on the keg as Hoole and Trentham had done, but posted
himself a few paces from the rest of the party, at a spot where the
ground rose slightly. Hoole, just before he closed his eyes, saw the
stout figure pacing slowly up and down.
Rather more than two hours afterwards Meek, in his sleep, threw out his
left leg, and dealt Grinson, who lay at his side, a smart kick on the
shin.
'Belay, there!' shouted Grinson, starting up. 'What swab--what dirty
lubber----'
''Twas a nightmare, Mr. Grinson,' said Meek penitently. 'I dreamt as a
kangaroo was a-coming to peck me, and----'
'Peck you! A goose might----'
He paused and looked around. Hoole and Trentham were a few yards away,
fast asleep. Haan was not in sight.
'Whose watch is this, Ephraim?' asked Grinson.
'I can't rightly say, but seeing as the two gentlemen be asleep, I can't
help thinking 'tis the Dutchman's.'
Grinson got up.
'If so be he was a landsman,' he said, 'he might be doing a beat like a
bobby; but a seaman ought to know better.'
He walked to the left, then to the right, followed by Meek.
'Can't see the chap, nor hear him. What d' you make of it, Ephraim?'
'He can't have fell overboard--must have strayed. Give him a hail with
your powerful voice, Mr. Grinson. Save us all! I forgot the cannibals!
Don't holler, for mercy's sake!'
'I nearly did, but you 're right, Ephraim. I 'll report to the skipper,
which I mean Mr. Trentham.'
'Eh--what? The Dutchman absent from his post?' said Trentham sleepily,
when Grinson had roused him. 'Hoole, wake up!'
'Sure I haven't been asleep forty minutes yet,' said Hoole. 'And I gave
Haan five minutes extra.'
'Where _is_ Haan?'
'Where is he? He was over there.'
'Grinson says he 's missing.'
'Missing! But----' He felt for his watch. 'What's the time? I lent
him my watch.'
'Ten past four.'
'What?'
Trentham showed him his watch.
'Ten past four! It was two when I gave it him! What the deuce----'
He stopped, and stared blankly at Trentham.
'What did I say, Ephraim, me lad?' said Grinson, in what he intended for
a whisper.
'What's that, Grinson?' demanded Trentham. 'What _did_ you say?'
'Well, sir, as we come along, Meek and me was saying a few things about
the Dutchman's trousers, and seeing as they 'd no mark of being in
sea-water, it come into my head that he didn't get ashore swimming. And
from that--which I know the little ways o' seamen--I somehow couldn't
help guessing that he might 'a got restless like, and hopped the twig.'
'Deserted his ship, sir,' explained Meek.
'Got a bit wild like, and gone a-roaming,' added Grinson. 'Seemingly
he's got it again.'
'Nonsense!' exclaimed Trentham. 'He isn't an ass!'
'Guess we 'd better look for him,' said Hoole. 'He 's got my watch.'