AN INTERLUDE
At the entrance to the village the returning party found Grinson alone,
standing in the middle of the path, his knife in his right hand, a spear
in his left, and a dozen other spears on the ground beside him. Neither
Meek nor any of the natives was to be seen.
'What's the meaning of this, Grinson?' asked Trentham.
'Ignorance, sir--just ignorance, poor heathens!' replied the boatswain,
cocking his thumb towards the village. 'That there airy plane sailed
over a while ago, and the savages all did a bunk, screeching like one
o'clock, though I roared myself black in the face telling 'em 'twas only
a sort o' bird. 'Twas no good; like as I 've seed cows and sheep bolt
with their tails up from a railway train. They was scared stiff, there
's no mistake; and I 'spect they 're hiding their heads somewhere.'
'And Meek?'
'I sent Ephraim straight into our hut, sir, and seeing as how the whole
place was left undefended, like, I took up my station here. Germans,
sir?' he added in a whisper, winking towards the prisoners.
'Yes; their machine came down. We 'll leave them in your charge, as we
want to take a gang back to bring in the machine. You had no trouble on
the way home?'
'Not a bit, sir, except that they 've no notion whatever of the proper
way of marching--more like a lot of colts they was; but there, I hadn't
the heart to correct 'em, they was so uncommon pleased to be free
again.'
The party had not interrupted their march. Grinson had picked up his
spears and fallen in step beside Trentham. As they passed along the
path, from behind the huts and the midst of the plantations native heads
appeared one by one, and when the timorous people recognised their young
chief they came bounding out with yells of delight, until by the time
the inner enclosure was reached the whole population had joined the
procession. At the gate the patricians were assembled, headed by the
temporary chief. They welcomed Flanso with some show of dignity, and
conducted him to the chief's house, bowing low as he entered the
doorway. The two prisoners were placed under guard in an empty hut, and
then Trentham hurried after Flanso, and with the aid of the interpreter
explained the course of action which had been arranged between himself
and Hoole during the homeward march.
Trentham found himself contending with the natives' absolute
incomprehension of the value of time. Flanso was already occupied in
discussing with his elders the details of his approaching installation.
No western monarch could have been more deeply absorbed in the
ceremonies that were to inaugurate his reign. The hardships from which
he had been rescued, the dangers that still threatened him and his
people, seemed to have vanished from his mind, and it was only by dint
of patience and pertinacity that Trentham succeeded in capturing his
attention.
He pointed out that the Germans, enraged at the loss of their prisoners,
would certainly seek to regain them, and also to wreak vengeance upon
the community; nor would their animus be lessened when they discovered
that their airmen had fallen into the enemy's hands.
'Chief say Toitsche fella no belongina find out that,' said the
interpreter, after an interruption from Flanso. 'Black fella belongina
eat white fella chop-chop.'
'Tell chief what he say all belongina gammon,' cried Trentham, and
proceeded to explain as well as he could from the slender resources of
pidgin English that the Germans might be valuable at least as hostages.
It took some time to get this theory understood and accepted; then it
was an equally long and difficult task to persuade him that the seaplane
would be of any value to him. What was the good of it? It only
frightened his people. To fetch it involved the risk of falling into
the power of the Germans. Trentham managed to make him understand that
the loss of the machine would greatly cripple the enemy's operations;
and further, that if Hoole succeeded in repairing it, it might be used
to bring help from friendly white men, who would eat up the Germans, and
deliver the natives for ever from them. Flanso was rather impressed by
these statements, though he said that his people would probably prefer
to eat up all the Germans themselves; and Trentham realised the danger
of employing metaphorical language. Ultimately he brought Flanso to
concede his request--to despatch a party of able-bodied men to transport
the seaplane from its present position to the village.
'I feel utterly done up,' he said, mopping his brow, when he returned to
the others. 'Jabbering pidgin English for an hour is worse than penal
servitude. And it's such frightful loss of time; the Germans may have
discovered the machine by now.'
'Don't worry,' said Hoole. 'It was flying so low that I guess they
couldn't have seen it come down, and when they miss it they may hunt for
it for a day or two in the forest and not find it, except by a fluke. I
don't figure out that they 'll have all the luck. Anyway, choose your
men, and I 'll take 'em out; you 've done your share of the business. I
'll take Grinson, he 's a hefty man, and may have a notion or two.'
Fortunately the chief's obstinacy had no counterpart among the Papuans
outside the enclosure. The released prisoners had done nothing since
their return except relate over and over again the details of their
sufferings and the manner of their escape. Their friends listened
awestruck to the tale, and gasped as they heard of the dangling rope,
the lightning which had gleamed upon the cliff, the crackling thunder,
the strange stones that flew singing through the air; and they looked
with wondering admiration upon the white men who had saved their
fellows, not only from the tyrants who had enslaved them, but even from
the powers of nature which those tyrants had at command. Trentham and
Hoole thus found themselves to be regarded with veneration, and when the
interpreter, prompted by Trentham, explained that the white men required
the services of twenty strong men to bring in the great sea-bird which
was another part of the enemy's magic, there was no lack of volunteers
eager to undertake the work. Another score were selected as scouts, and
when these understood that the object to be carried was bulky, and could
not easily be conveyed through thick forest, they announced that they
knew a way less obstructed by vegetation, which would be more
convenient, though less direct.
Under their guidance the party reached the stream some distance above
the spot where the seaplane lay. Feeling their way cautiously along the
bank, they came at length in sight of the machine, which to all
appearance remained exactly as it had been left. Hoole took the
precaution to post a screen of scouts around the position to give
warning if the enemy should approach, then he sent Grinson to detach the
wings. A handy man, like all British seamen, Grinson soon accomplished
his task, with the aid of tools discovered among the airmen's outfit.
Within a shorter space of time than Hoole had deemed possible the work
was finished. The wings were entrusted to two men apiece; the body of
the machine was hoisted on the shoulders of the rest of the party; and
although they met with considerable difficulties at rough and steep
places on the return journey, once being saved from catastrophe only by
the succour of Grinson's sturdy muscles, they bore their burden without
mishap to the village, and carried it up the central path amid the
joyous shouts of the populace. Some of the men, now that the strange
bird was evidently helpless, showed their bravery by casting their
spears at it, and their dexterity by failing to hit any of the bearers.
At this Hoole fairly lost his temper, and rushed among the throng,
smiting them right and left with his fists. This unusual mode of
correction was effectual. The men who were sent spinning picked
themselves up with an air of surprise, while their comrades shouted with
laughter, in which the culprits themselves by and by joined. For
safety's sake Hoole had the machine carried into the inner enclosure,
where it was inspected with more decorum and shyness by the patricians,
and with contempt by the medicine-man, who demonstrated his assurance by
stroking the petrol tank and afterwards licking his greasy fingers. The
grimaces he made were so much like those he was accustomed to display
for professional purposes that his discomfort passed unnoticed except by
the white men.
Trentham came out of his hut rubbing his eyes.
'Yes, I 've been asleep,' he said, in answer to Hoole's inquiring look.
'A pretty warden of the camp I should make. But the fact is, these
people are hopeless. I tried to make them understand that the Germans
might be upon us at any minute--no good! They appear to be entirely
taken up with some sort of mumbo-jumbo, and can't attend to anything
else. So I simply gave in, trusting that if the Germans did appear the
people would be scared into reasonableness. The wall, of course, is
proof against anything less than a four-pounder.'
'Well, I guess you did right,' said Hoole, 'and after thirty odd hours
without it, a little sleep would comfort me some. As to the Germans, I
'm pretty sure they 'll do a bit of reconnoitring before they attack.
The surprise of those two airmen wasn't put on; it's clear that Hahn
said nothing about us, and they 'll be wondering how many there are of
us. And so, my son, we must persuade Flanso to keep some scouts out
with their eyes lifting. With proper notice we could put up some sort
of defence. But I hope we 'll get away before it comes to that.'
'You can repair the machine, then?'
'I reckon I can, if I can get hold of a forge. But I 'm dead tired, so I
'll turn in, if you 'll keep your eyes open a while. So long!'
That evening, as the four men sat together once more in their hut, the
two younger drew from Meek the story which he had already related to
Grinson on the way home. It was a very colourless narrative--a recital
of the cold facts in the fewest possible words, without a touch of
passion or indignation. Grinson, however, was not the man to leave his
mate's story unadorned.
'He 's an 'ero, gentlemen, that's what Ephraim is!' he declared. 'If
ever he gets back to the old country, I lay the name of Ephraim
Meek--ay, and his picter too--will be in all the newspapers. I 'll see
to that. And the cinemas too; by gosh, I hear 'em now, the cheers of the
little kiddies and the sobs of the women and gals when they see Ephraim
tied up, like that chap as defied the lightning, bidding of them German
ruffians to do their worst; he 'd never dig coal for them, not him!
P'r'aps one of you young gentlemen will make a pome out of it, like that
one about "the boy stood on the burning deck," you remember, or one I
used to know years ago when I went to school, about a British Tommy. I
don't rightly recollect it, but 'twas a Tommy in some heathen land as
wouldn't bob his head to an idol, or thing of the sort, though they
killed him for it. 'Twud be a shame if Ephraim wasn't put into some
pome too--an 'ero like him!'
'I ain't got the figger of an 'ero, Mr. Grinson,' said Meek. 'Now if it
was you--a-going off singing to be eat--that 'ud made a picter. I
couldn't sing if 'twas me--I 'm sure I couldn't.'
'Why, that was only like a sheep bleating on the way to the
slaughter-house--'eroes don't baa. Ain't I right, gentlemen?'
'What do you say, Hoole?' said Trentham, feeling somewhat at a loss.
'Well,' drawled Hoole, 'I guess heroes ain't _cheap_, anyway, and I 'm
proud to know two, that's sure.'