NAT'S SKYROCKET ARTILLERY.
"The boat lies off in that direction. We had better make our way to
her at top speed."
It was Captain Akers who spoke, fifteen minutes later. In that time
Cal had wriggled out of his own bonds and freed the others. Our
party now stood in the shadows of the grove, while clearly borne to
them came the shouts and yells of the still excited tribesmen.
"Once on board her we can institute a search for Ding-dong and Joe,"
whispered Nat. "They cannot be so very far off, unless they pulled
direct for the gorge."
"Well, let's vamoose then, at once," struck in Cal. "No sense in
lingering. Those Kanakas think we are tied too securely to bother
with us, but who knows that one of them might take a notion into his
ugly head at any minute to come and look at us to make sure."
"That's right," agreed Nat. "Lead the way then, Captain, we will
follow."
Without more ado the captain struck off into the undergrowth, his two
companions pushing along behind him. But as they plunged from the
clearing into the brush, as ill luck would have it, Captain Akers'
foot struck one of the savages who had chosen that spot to take a
quiet nap.
The fellow leaped to his feet with a yell that rang echoing all
about. The next instant Captain Akers' fist crashed into the man's
face and he measured his length. But the mischief had been done.
Like a pack of hounds in full cry, most of the tribe came rushing
toward the spot to ascertain the cause of the outcry.
"Come on. It's a run for life now!" panted the skipper, dashing off.
The others followed as quietly as possible, but still they could not
avoid making some noise as they traversed the tangle.
To men as keenly trained in the primitive senses as the savages, it
was thus an easy matter to follow them.
"Heaven grant the boat is there or we are lost men," breathed the
captain, as they sped along with the savage yells ringing out
menacingly behind them. It was indeed, as the captain had said, a
run for life.
Before long they emerged from the vegetation and found themselves
once more on the lake shore.
Captain Akers gave a groan as he looked about him.
No boat was to be seen.
"We're done for," he gasped desperately.
"Look, what is that dark object up the beach there!" exclaimed Nat.
"Good for you, lad, I believe that is the boat!" exclaimed the
captain. "I miscalculated our whereabouts and gave her up for lost.
Come on! Sharp's the word."
At top speed they fled along the sandy shore.
But an appalling din behind them told them better than words that
they had been seen.
A few minutes now would decide all.
Wh-i-z-z-z-z-z-z!
Something whistled by Nat's ear and sank quivering in the ground just
ahead of him.
It was a spear. The boy shuddered as he thought how narrowly the
cruel weapon had missed sinking between his shoulder blades.
The next instant they were at the boat's side. But the tide had
fallen since she was beached, and to their consternation there was
quite a distance to push her before she would be afloat.
But they gritted their teeth and caught hold. As they did so, Nat's
hand encountered a box lying by the gunwale of the craft.
"What in the world is that?" he asked.
"Oh," panted Cal, "that's the skyrockets. I brought them with the
idea of signaling the others if I found you."
"Hooray!" shouted Nat.
The others gazed at him in astonishment. For an instant they thought
his mind had given way under the strain of the past twelve hours.
"What's the matter?" asked Captain Akers.
"The rockets--hooray! We'll use them as weapons against the natives!"
"By hookey, the boy is right!" exclaimed Captain Akers. "I once
scared off a band of Patagonians in that way when a ship I commanded
ran ashore."
"We'll have to look sharp," said Nat, taking one of the rockets.
They were big ones, intended for signaling at sea. The sticks were
already fitted.
"Lucky that they will be just as effective skimming over the ground
as if they went straight up in the air," exclaimed Nat.
He laid one in the bow of the boat, where it came to a point, and
lost no time in applying a match to it.
As the flame blazed up a yell apprised him that the savages, who had
been baffled for an instant, had sighted them.
With ferocious, blood-curdling cries, the Polynesians charged on the
boat, waving their weapons in hideous significance.
"Yell away," gritted out Cal. "You'll squall louder yet in a minute,
my pesky, yaller coyotes."
The first of the savages, a huge, gaunt fellow, was within fifty feet
of the boat when the rocket, with a loud "fi-z-z-z-z-z-z-z-z!" tore
loose. Straight as an arrow it sped, driven by its tail of fire.
The next instant It struck the advancing savage in the breast. With
a howl of terror, he fell flat, and the rocket, deflected from its
course, went hissing and roaring like a devouring serpent among his
followers.
Before they could make a move to avoid the mysterious fiery peril, it
exploded with a terrific "bang!"
Brilliantly colored globes of fire spattered from it in all
directions. Red, green, and blue. The savages howled with terror
and rage and mystification. This was a new method of warfare to them.
"Hooray! we've got 'em going!" shouted Cal, as the savage, whom the
rocket had knocked over, scrambled to his feet with surprising
agility and sprinted back among his brethren.
"That was shot Number One!" cried Nat, putting another rocket in
place and lighting the fuse. Like the other, the second rocket sped
straight and true for the massed bodies of the aborigines. Before
they could recover from their surprise, it was upon them. Roaring
and sputtering like a fiery comet, it sped among their legs, sending
sparks and fire all over them. As the brands fell on their naked
skins the savages broke into wild yells and cries. Panic reigned in
their ranks.
In the light of the bursting star-case of the rocket our party could
see black forms darting off into the bush in all directions. The
ordeal of fire had proven too much for them. They shouted with fear
as they ran helter-skelter in every direction.
Our friends shouted, too, but with far different emotions, as they
shoved the boat over the strip of sand between her and the water's
edge. In another minute they had her launched and were off. Cal
took the oars and saw the light craft flying across the smooth
surface of the lake.
Suddenly Nat gave a cry.
"There's a canoe ahead there coming toward us!"
"By George, so there is!" cried Captain Akers. "What if it is the
forerunner of a fleet of them?"
But there was no cause for such apprehension, for the craft, in a few
seconds more, proved to be none other than the canoe beneath which
Nat had surprised the sleeping savages. In it were Joe and
Ding-dong. They had been profoundly distressed at Nat's vanishment
and their relief when they heard his voice may be imagined.
They had seen the rockets while they were disconsolately paddling
about, waiting for daylight to prosecute a search for their
companions. Rightly surmising that they were fired by members of the
Motor Ranger party, they at once made for that direction. They were
little prepared, however for the surprise that awaited them.
The reunited party then all took places in the "Nomad's" boat, towing
the canoe astern.
A dull, gray dawn was just breaking as they set out once more for the
mouth of the gorge that led to the sea. Rapidly they neared it. But
as they did so Nat, who was gazing toward the shore, uttered a sudden
cry of consternation. The others, following the direction of his
gaze, could see crowds of savages running along the beach.
"What can they be after?" shouted Joe. "They seem to have some
object in mind."
"A terrible one, I am afraid," said Nat gravely. He had guessed the
meaning of the natives' haste.
"If I'm not mistaken--and I hope I am--they are headed for the gorge.
They know we shall have to pass through it to escape."
"Well, what then?"
The question came from Cal, who was not particularly quick-witted,
despite all his other good qualities.
"What then?" echoed Nat. "Why, if they get there first, they can
hurl rocks or spears down on us and soon put us out of commission."
"What is to be done?" asked Joe, in a dismayed voice.
"We must get to the gorge first."
"It will be a desperate race," put in Captain Akers.
"And one in which the stakes are life or death," was Nat's comment.
The canoe was cut loose so that they could make better progress, and
the boat fairly hissed over the water. But the natives of these
islands where there are no horses are prodigiously swift runners.
They saw, to their dismay, that fast as they rowed the natives ashore
were as swift, or perhaps a shade faster.
At last the entrance of the gloomy gorge loomed in front of them.
Its sides towered steeply, showing a thin strip of sky at the summit.
Through this narrow passage they must pass to win freedom.
The hearts of all beat faster as the boat entered the shadows of the
defile. Nat's breath came thickly and his heart beat fast. Joe and
Ding-dong showed, too, by their white, set faces, that they felt the
strain painfully. Captain Akers sat in the stern with a composed
face. He had looked on danger too often to tremble now. Cal was as
unconcerned as ever, outwardly, but a certain nervous twitching of
his facial muscles showed that even his iron nerve was shaken.
And small wonder. A stone--not a very large one, either--pitched
from the top of the defile would inevitably have sunk the boat. The
impetus gained in its three-hundred-foot fall would have given it a
crushing force twenty times superior to its own weight.
They had rowed perhaps a hundred feet into the defile when Joe, who
was gazing up at the sharply defined edges, gave a cry and pointed.
Outlined against the sky far above them was a brown-skinned figure.
It was joined by another and another. They gazed down at the boat,
gesticulating furiously.
"It's all off," groaned Cal tragically.
"We must keep on going and trust to Providence," decided Captain
Akers. "It would mean death anyway if we turned back now."
The boat sped on and presently the figures disappeared. Had they
gone to get rocks with which to pelt the boat? This was soon
answered. Before ten seconds had passed they were back again. But
this time, to the boys' horror, they saw that the natives had a large
stone which they were rolling to the edge of the defile. Their
evident intention was to drop it on the boat as it passed beneath.
"Pull for your lives!" yelled Captain Akers. "There's one chance in
a hundred we may beat them."
The boat shot forward in a desperate spurt.
At the same moment the natives trundled the stone to the edge of the
ravine. For one instant it trembled on the lip of the abyss, and
then--it fell!
Involuntarily those in the boat crouched as they saw what was coming.
But this time, at least, fortune favored our friends, for the big
stone missed the boat by a fraction of an inch, the force of its
impact with the water sending up great waves from the stern.
Before the savages, who had launched the stone just one fraction of a
second too late to annihilate the boat, could recover their wits, the
lads were out of harm's way. For the surface at the summit of the
cliff was covered with underbrush and the savages, who were the
advance guard of the rest, could not hope to keep pace with the boat
through it. A shower of spears came after them, striking the water
like hail. But not one struck the boat.
Half an hour later the boat traversed the curtain of creepers and
emerged upon the surface of the open sea.
"Now for the 'Nomad'!" shouted Joe, as they shoved through the
suspended panoply. But his rejoicing was rather premature.
To their dismay, and no less astonishment, no sign of the "Nomad" was
to be seen. As far as the eye could reach the sea was empty of life
as the desert at noonday.
It was a bitter disappointment and for some time not one of the party
could find words to convey the bitterness of his spirits.