A STRANGE MEETING.
They gained the shores of the "lake" at a point a good distance
removed from the vicinity of Colonel Morello's camp. But they no
sooner reached the shore than by the light of the flames they
perceived that, as the wounded man had said, some indeed of the band
must have eluded capture or injury by the savages.
The two-masted schooner which had been the theater of Nat's former
thrilling adventures was already in motion. With canvas up, she was
heading for the mouth of the gorge.
Seemingly, the savages who had attacked the camp must have been a
land force, for, although the boys could see several of them on the
bank of the lake in the neighborhood of the burning camp, they made
no effort to pursue the schooner. But as they watched her glide off
they could be heard to utter angry cries and shouts.
"Well, so far, it looks as if the schooner will get off scot free,"
remarked Nat; "but what are they going to do when they come to the
gorge? They can't sail her through that."
"Hardly," agreed Joe. "I guess when they reach it they will either
tow her by boats or else warp her through by casting out the anchor
and then pull in up on the cable."
The latter was, in fact, the means used by the fugitives to get
through the narrow gorge. On board her were Colonel Morello, Ed.
Dayton, and a dozen others, including Larsen, the giant Swede who
acted as the vessel's navigator. They had escaped from the village
when it was attacked by the natives and made straight for the banks
of the lake where they had embarked in the collapsible boat brought
by the boys and another small craft which they had there.
When they reached the open sea, after pushing through the curtain of
greenery, the collapsible boat was cast adrift.
In the meantime, the boys had circled a great part of the lake in
search of some sort of a boat which they thought might have been left
there by either Gooddale or some of Morello's men.
All this took a long time, and it was close to midnight when Nat, who
was in advance of the party, stopped and gave a cry of delight.
Ahead of them on the white beach lay a canoe, turned bottom upward.
"Hooray!" shouted Nat. "With some branches for paddles we can make
good our escape in this, all right. Boys, suppose you go and cut
some limbs from those trees while I turn the canoe over and get her
in the water, and then hooray! for the dear old 'Nomad.'"
Joe and Ding-dong, in a hurry to complete their errand, plunged into
the dense jungle in search of suitable limbs, while Nat hastened to
the side of the canoe and turned it over. As he did so he got one of
the most thrilling shocks of his life.
From under the craft there leaped three hideous, painted savages.
Their noses were transfixed with wooden pegs, brass rings hung from
their ears, extending the lobes to an unnatural size. Round their
necks hung strings of door-knobs, old cartridges, and various other
bits of hardware.
They poised their spears threateningly at Nat who stood transfixed
with alarm and astonishment.
[Illustration: They poised their spears threateningly at Nat who
stood transfixed with alarm and astonishment.]
The men formed part of an outlying system of sentries, posted by the
wily old chief of the tribe.
One of them clapped his hand to his lips as a signal for silence,
emphasizing his order by a flourish of his spear.
But he need not have done so. Nat knew that to make an outcry would
mean that Ding-dong and Joe Hartley would come bounding to his
assistance. In that case, they would be in as grave a fix as he was.
So he remained silent while his captors signaled to him to follow
them.
With one at his side and two spearsmen behind him, Nat had no
recourse but to obey. As he stumbled along, for the savages were
stepping out briskly, Nat found himself wondering what Ding-dong and
Joe would think when they returned to the beach and found the canoe
deserted. He hoped they would have presence of mind enough to waste
no time in looking for him, but make all haste to the "Nomad" and
summon aid.
If they did this he might be able to stave off harm till aid arrived.
But in case it did not, Nat, foolishly perhaps, did not feel any
immediate apprehension. His captors, while savage looking and
menacing, did not appear willing to offer him any actual harm.
"I wonder where we are heading for?" thought Nat, as they hastened
along, skirting the shores of the lake at the same brisk pace.
"I guess we are going back to the camp where the chief must be. In
that case, it won't be long before I know what is to be done with me.
If I can only convince the savages that I am as much an enemy of
Gooddale and Morello as they are, I may get off without any trouble."
Buoying up his spirits by such thoughts, Nat stepped out as boldly as
his captors, who from time to time conversed with each other in
guttural monotones.
As Nat had surmised, their course was laid for the still blazing
camp. At the pace they were going they reached it far quicker than
it had taken the boys to traverse the distance to the canoe, for the
savages had no need to dodge in and out of trees and shrubbery to
avoid being seen.
It was a wild and strange scene that met Nat's eyes as he and his
escort entered the burned camp. Savages, all attired--or, rather,
unattired--like his captors were swarming everywhere.
They capered and danced about the ruins with shrill cries. Evidently
they thought they had accomplished an excellent night's work. Here
and there Nat noted, with a shudder, some still forms lying huddled
and motionless. He knew that these must be the bodies of the victims
of the fight which followed when the camp was surprised.
Were Morello and Dayton among them, he wondered, or had they escaped
on the schooner the lads had seen standing off down the lake?
In front of one of the burned huts a tall savage stood, leaning on
his spear. The fire-light played on his features and it struck Nat
that the man had a far more intelligent look than his followers, at
any rate those whom he had seen of them.
It soon transpired that this savage was none other than the chief of
the tribe, or, at least, a person of authority. Nat was marched
straight up to him and an excited colloquy between the chief and the
men who had been lying under the canoe at once began. Other
tribesmen came up while it was in progress. They gazed curiously at
Nat, but offered him no violence. He wondered what would come next.
He was not left long in doubt.
The chief gave a wave of his hand and presently Nat was led off once
more. This time he was escorted to a grove of bread-fruit trees and
then his hands were strapped behind him around one of the trunks. He
was a prisoner for the second time that day, and, by a strange
fatality, in almost the same place as had been the scene of his first
captivity.
"This looks bad," muttered Nat, half aloud, as the savages, having
tied him, walked off again, retracing their steps to the looted camp.
"Nat Trevor, you'll need all your courage."
To his amazement, the next instant a voice came out of the darkness,
evidently not far from him.
"Who is that who speaks of Nat Trevor?"
"Captain Akers!" exclaimed Nat. "How in the world did you get here?"
"Then it is you!" exclaimed the captain. "This is a most
extraordinary meeting, Nat. I fear that we have about reached the
end of our tether."
"Not by a long shot," chimed in another familiar voice, which Nat
recognized with delight as being that of Cal Gifford. "Nat and me
has been in as tough places and gotten out--ain't we, Nat?"
"That's right, Cal," was the rejoinder. "But that isn't answering my
question. How did you come to be here?"
"Well, you see," said Captain Akers, "when you didn't come back we
decided that something serious must be wrong, and me and Cal set out
in the other boat to look for you. It didn't take us long to reach
the spot where we had last seen you and to discover that all that
green stuff on the cliff-face hid an opening.
"We guessed you must have entered it with the boat and pulled through
it. Then we headed up the gorge. We soon emerged into that lake
yonder, and saw lights in the camp--or what we later discovered was
the camp. Drawing the boat up on shore, so as to half conceal her
near the bushes, we set out to reconnoiter. We crept through the
jungle till we had gotten quite close to the camp, and the first
thing we heard was the voice of that rascal Morello talking about how
neatly he had trapped you.
"You kin bet we was mad," put in Cal, "but what could we do? While
we was figgering out some way to find your place of imprisonment and
aid you, the attack on the camp came. We tried to get away, but a
party of them niggers came right up on us. I guess that's about all,
except that here we are. And now tell us your story."
Nat briefly related what had occurred to them since they left the
"Nomad." His recital was received with exclamations of astonishment
by both Cal and Captain Akers. Both were likewise much concerned
over the predicament that both Ding-dong and Joe must by that time be
in. They had no doubt returned to the boat soon after Nat and his
captors had left it. The question was, would they paddle off for the
"Nomad" or remain where they were in the hope that Nat would return?
Suddenly Cal scattered all meditations on this subject by a sharp
exclamation.
"What's the matter?" asked Captain Akers curiously.
"Nuthin' much, only I got my hands free," drawled Cal, in the most
unconcerned manner.