The Girl Crusoes: A Story of the South Seas Page 19

  Now that the critical moment had come she was strangely calm. Allnervousness and excitement had vanished; her whole being was possessedby one dominating idea--the rescue of the prisoner. Noiselessly shelet down the flexible ladder, which lay close against the wall. Thenseeing that Tommy and Maku had grasped the ends of the small pole asshe had instructed them, she prepared to clamber through the aperture.At the last moment Mary flung her arms round her neck and kissed herpassionately; then she was gone.

  She slipped down the ladder very quickly on her bare feet, carrying heropen knife. She stood on the floor. The men were for the most partstretched towards the middle of the cave, but one or two lay near theprisoner. Pausing just one moment to look around, she moved quicklyalong the wall, holding her skirts close about her as she passed thesleepers. She came to the prisoner and stooped. His eyes were open.She dared not cut his bonds with rapid strokes, for fear the snappingshould be heard. Gently she sawed the tendrils that were wound roundabout his whole body, all her senses alert. It seemed ages before thebonds were all loosened and removed.

  The prisoner did not stir. Elizabeth beckoned to him, but with hiseyes he seemed to try to explain that he was helpless. One of thenatives moved uneasily, and for one intolerable moment Elizabeth losther head. Then she understood: the prisoner's bonds had been sotightly drawn, and he had so long remained in the one position, thathis limbs were numbed. Slipping to her knees, she began to chafe hislegs. A man at the far end of the cave gave a cough, and a hot wavesurged through the girl. At that moment she could have wished theearth to open and swallow her. But once again there was silence, andthe terror passed.

  In a few minutes the prisoner was able to move his legs. Alternatelybending and straightening them, he felt them tingling with the coursingblood. Elizabeth rose, glanced timorously round, and held out herhands to him. He got up, staggered, and would have fallen but for hersustaining arms. There was not enough space for both to pass abreastbetween the wall and the prostrate natives. Walking backwards,Elizabeth led him slowly towards the waiting ladder. Every step waspainful to him, and as he crept feebly on, Elizabeth's heart misgaveher; would he have the strength to climb? They came to the foot of theladder. All the torches were now extinguished save one. Completedarkness would have been welcome if only Elizabeth could have hadconfidence in the old man's strength. She pointed to the ladder, thenupwards towards the gap. The missionary understood. For an instantElizabeth hesitated. Should she go first, leaving the prisoner tofollow, or see him in safety before she mounted herself? A moment'sconsideration showed her that she must be the first to climb. Maku andTommy would need all their strength to keep the pole in position; themissionary was tall and no light weight; he could not scramble throughthe hole unaided; therefore she must be there to help him. She darednot speak to him, but in dumb show she indicated what he must do. Henodded. Then she gave a slight tug upon the ladder as a sign to thoseabove, and nimbly mounted.

  She reached the top, slid through the hole, and looked back. The oldman was beginning to climb. With fast-beating heart she watched him,dreading that now, even at the last moment, he might miss his footingand fall back among his mortal enemies. They slept on. Slowly,carefully, the climber drew himself up. To Elizabeth, fixing her eyeson him, it seemed that he would never reach her. The ladder creaked;would the sleepers waken? She looked anxiously towards them; they didnot move. Inch by inch he came nearer; he had almost gained the top,when he swayed and for one terrible moment she thought he was lost.But with a great effort he recovered himself; he mounted again; hishead was level with the hole. Elizabeth thrust out her arms, grippedhis wrists, and drew him into the tunnel, holding him firmly with herstrong, supple hands. He was through.

  But his shoulders had pressed heavily upon the sides of the hole, andhis feet had not touched the floor of the tunnel when several fragmentsof loosened rock fell and struck the ground with a resounding clatter.There was commotion below. Quick as thought Elizabeth drew up theladder, leaving Mary to support the old man, whose efforts hadexhausted him.

  As the ladder came through the hole it caught a fragment of rock thatlay on the ledge. Elizabeth dashed forward to prevent this fromfalling. But it escaped her and fell crashing to the ground at thefeet of one of the natives, who was looking up in wonderment at thestrange thing crawling as it were into the wall.

  A yell proclaimed his discovery. All hope of secrecy was at an end.Instantly the cave was filled with uproar. The sleeping men had leaptto their feet. At first their cries were of amazement and alarm, butone blew the flickering torch into flame, others kindled fresh torchesat it, and in the illumination they saw that their prisoner was gone.In his place were the severed bonds, and beside them Elizabeth's openknife, which in her anxious help of the old missionary she hadforgotten.

  With yells of rage the natives dashed hither and thither, pointing atthe gap in the wall, in too great a frenzy of excitement to hit on ameans of pursuing the prisoner. One picked up a trade gun and fired,but the uselessness of this must have been apparent to them all.Suddenly, at a word from their chief, six of them darted from the caveinto the open. In a few minutes they returned, bringing two straight,young trees which they had uprooted from the loose soil outside. Thesethey set against the wall, and with hideous shouts of anticipatedtriumph they began to swarm up towards the hole.

  CHAPTER XXII

  FRIENDS IN NEED

  Meanwhile at the moment of discovery the little company in the tunnelwas overcome with horror and despair. The strain of the last fewminutes had told upon Elizabeth's strength. She trembled in everylimb. The others were as though paralysed; and the missionary,bewildered and unstrung, stood helpless, his arms clasped by Mary in aconvulsive grip.

  The glare of the rekindled torches threw a sudden light upon the end ofthe tunnel. The report of the shot seemed to shock Elizabeth intorenewed energy. "Back to the pit!" she cried. "Mary, go first withthe missionary."

  He had now recognized Maku, and was lost in amazement. The whole partyset off along the tunnel. Elizabeth guessed that the ascent of thewall would offer no difficulties to men practised in climbing cocoa-nutpalms, and though she was urging her friends towards the pit she had nohope of ultimate escape.

  The light soon failed. They had perforce to move slowly, and Marywarned the missionary that presently when the roof became lower hewould have to crawl on hands and knees. She stretched her arms aboveher head so that she might know when the time for stooping came. Therest followed close behind, Elizabeth bringing up the rear.

  The lowest part of the tunnel was about one-third of its length fromthe gap. As she crawled through this with Tommy immediately in frontof her, Elizabeth had a sudden thought which turned despair into hope.The roof was no more than three feet above the floor. If only thenarrow space could be blocked, an effective obstacle to pursuit wouldbe set up. Was it possible? This portion of the tunnel was but a fewyards in length. As soon as she was able to stand again she called tothe rest to halt.

  "Have you your knives?" she asked her sisters when they came to her.

  "Yes," they both answered.

  "Come with me, Mary," she said, taking Tommy's knife from her. "Go onwith the others; we will follow soon."

  Mary and she returned to the point where the roof sloped, andElizabeth, slipping to her knees, began to prod at it with the knife.To her great joy a shower of loose shale fell.

  "Help me, Mary; work as hard as you can."

  They plied their knives energetically. The missionary, anxious tolearn what they were about, joined them, and, having no otherimplement, lifted a piece of hard rock and prodded at the roof withthat. Soon a considerable heap of earth and shale was piled up on thefloor. But their tools were poor substitutes for pickaxes, andElizabeth feared that there would not be time to block the tunneleffectively before the savages arrived.

  All at once there was a tremendous crash, and the girls started back inalarm, not quickly enough to
escape some clods of earth that struckthem heavily. The loosening of the under layer of the roof haddisturbed the mass above, and there had now fallen upon the floor animmense quantity of debris which completely blocked the tunnel, andcould only be removed with long labour.

  Elizabeth gave a cry of joy.

  "We are saved for the present," she said. "Come!"

  They hurried after the others, whom they overtook just as they reachedthe opening into the pit.

  "We can't stay here," said Elizabeth; "they'll know there must beanother entrance, and will discover it as soon as it is light. We mustget up into the woods and hide."

  "The precipice!" said Mary instantly.

  "We could hardly get there in the dark," replied Elizabeth; "it's toodangerous. But we must go as near it as possible, and climb to the topwhen we can see our way."

  They wasted no time, but set up the ladder at once and clambered out ofthe pit. Their haste was such that none thought of taking with themany of their belongings until Elizabeth, at the last moment, rememberedthat there were no fruit-trees where they were going. She collectedall the food that remained and handed it up to her sisters, togetherwith their kettle and tin cups.

  To Fangati was given the task of leading the party through the woods.Their destination was a little hollow some distance away on the reverseside of the precipice. It was thickly covered with trees, and wouldafford shelter for the rest of the night. As soon as they dared theywould climb to the summit, a feat which in the darkness would behazardous in the extreme.

  Fangati was an unerring guide, and a quarter of an hour's uphill walkbrought them to the wooded hollow. Elizabeth and Mary each took an armof the missionary to assist him; indeed, Elizabeth felt the need ofsupport herself; her strength was nearly exhausted. Not a word wasspoken during the journey. All ears were strained to catch sounds frombelow. For a time they heard nothing, but presently the cries of theislanders came faintly on the air from afar. These ceased before theyreached their shelter, and it seemed that the pursuit was takinganother direction.

  They sank upon the ground beneath the trees.

  "Let us thank God for all His mercies," said the missionary, and intones little above a whisper, he uttered a few simple words ofgratitude and of entreaty for protection during the night.

  "I am filled with amazement at my marvellous deliverance," he said toElizabeth. "I know Maku and Fangati, but who are you, my dear youngladies, and how came you upon this island? Have you nobody else withyou? But I am inconsiderate; you must be very weary: doubtless youwill tell me all in the morning."

  "I am tired," Elizabeth confessed; "but I could not sleep, and the joyof hearing an English voice is greater than I can tell."

  There was a sob in her voice. Mary clasped her hand.

  "I will tell our story, Bess dear," she said; "lay your head in my lapand rest."

  So Mary quietly began to relate the story of their voyage. As shecasually mentioned the name of the vessel the missionary interruptedwith an exclamation.

  "The _Elizabeth_! Was her skipper Captain Barton?"

  "Yes," said Mary in surprise. "Did you know Uncle Ben?"

  "Know him! He was one of my oldest friends. I met him in London a fewdays before he sailed; indeed, he offered to bring me back in his ownvessel. He mentioned that his nieces were accompanying him. What hashappened?"

  Mary went on to tell of the wreck, the landing on the island, and thesimple outline of their life since.

  "Marvellous," said the old man; "and my poor old friend!--you sawnothing of the raft?"

  "Nothing. Do you think that there is any chance at all that Uncle Benwas saved?"

  "I cannot tell. Strange things happen in the providence of God. I seethe hand of God in your presence here; but for that I should not havelived another day. We can but trust that my old friend is safe. Hemay be on one of these many islands. I hope so."

  In answer to a question from Mary he related how he had gone fromLondon to San Francisco, and sailed thence in an American ship for theSouth Pacific. Having made a tour of the mission-stations, he had onlyreached his own island a few days ago. He had been met on the shore bythe natives with every mark of welcome; the absence of the chief wasplausibly explained; but the vessel had no sooner departed than he wasseized and tied up. He expected instant death, but had been reservedfor sacrifice at the ceremonies in connection with the inauguration ofthe new chief.

  "Did they give you food?" asked Tommy.

  "Yes, my dear, or I should never have had the strength to profit byyour sister's brave deed. Do you know, when I heard her voice, Ithought it had been the voice of an angel, speaking to me as the angelspoke to St. Peter in prison. The remembrance of how the apostle wasset free was very cheering as I lay waiting for night. Your sister hasindeed been an angel of deliverance. I thank God, who put courage intoher heart."

  They talked until the light of dawn stole through the trees. Elizabethhad fallen asleep. Without disturbing her the others rose and went tothe edge of the clump of woodland, whence a considerable portion of theisland was visible. No savages were in sight or hearing. They made abreakfast of fruit, and when Elizabeth awoke, and had eaten, they tooktheir way with many precautions up the steep ascent to the summit ofthe precipice.

  There grew upon it a few palm-trees, which did not afford as good ascreen as the clump they had just left. On the other hand it commandeda wider outlook over the sea. They hoped that the savages, failing todiscover them, would eventually return to their island. Only when theysaw the canoes departing would it be safe to venture down again.

  Their situation gave them much anxiety. Their stock of food was small,and they had now another mouth to feed. Already they felt the lack ofwater. The stream that flowed near the pit and plunged down over thewaterfall was too far distant for them to attempt to visit it; andwhile the savages were on the island the still longer journey to thestream near the site of their original hut was out of the question.They hoped with all their heart that the intruders would soon depart.

  But this hope died as the day wore on. From time to time they heardshouts, now distant, now nearer at hand. Clearly the men weresearching for them. Once they were greatly alarmed when they caughtsight of dusky figures crossing the open ground below their recentsettlement, and knew by their shouts and gestures that they haddiscovered traces of habitation. The natives had indeed already comeupon the pit and searched it. By good fortune they had followed thetracks down to the shore instead of up into the higher ground. Theyscoured the copse in which the boat and canoe had been placed, and ondiscovering them hastened along the shore in both directions. No doubtit was only the apparent inaccessibility of the precipice thatprevented them from suspecting that as the fugitives' place of refuge.

  The day passed. The little party lay in the shade of the trees, andkept as still as possible; but they were much distressed by heat andthirst, and at the fall of night the girls felt thoroughly worn out.Mr. Corke, the missionary, arranged that they should sleep through thenight, while he and the two natives kept watch.

  Elizabeth was very unwilling that this task should be undergone by theold man; but he assured her that he was very tough, and had quiterecovered from the effects of confinement, owing to the fortunatecircumstance that the islanders had not deprived him of food.

  When the next morning broke, and the girls, feeling weak and ill, rosefrom their hard couches, they were amazed to discover that Mr. Corkewas no longer with them.

  "Where is he?" asked Elizabeth anxiously.

  "He go fetch water," said Maku. "He say mus' have water, so he go downall-same fetch some."

  "Why did you let him? Why didn't you wake us?" cried Elizabeth ingreat distress.

  "He say mus' go," persisted the old chief. "He say you do lot fo' he,he do little t'ing fo' you."

  Tommy ran to the edge of the plantation to look for the missionary.Her sisters heard her give a low cry, and next moment she came runningback to them, her eyes a
blaze with excitement.

  "A ship! A ship!" she cried.

  The startling news was almost overwhelming. For a moment the girlsstood as though rooted to the ground, then they rushed forward,following Tommy, who had already darted back towards the edge. Theirhearts leapt within them as they saw, far out at sea, a line of blacksmoke, and beneath it the low hull of a steamer.

  "Is she coming this way?" said Mary anxiously.

  "Oh, I do hope so," said Elizabeth. "We must make a signal. Let ustie our handkerchiefs together; Fangati can climb one of the trees withit."

  In a few moments Fangati had climbed a tall stem, and tied the threeknotted handkerchiefs to a branch projecting towards the sea. Then thegirls remembered Mr. Corke, whom in their momentary excitement they hadforgotten. There was no sound from below; the natives had certainlynot yet seen him, or shouts would have announced their delight.

  But his continued absence made the girls ache with dread.

  They watched the steamer eagerly; the hull was enlarging; it wasapproaching rapidly; it was heading straight for the island. Thesignal had apparently been seen. But there was still no sign of themissionary.

  When the vessel was about half-a-mile from the shore its motion ceased.

  "They are afraid to come closer because of the rocks," said Mary."Look, they're lowering a boat."

  But at this moment their attention was withdrawn from the steamer bystartling sounds from below--loud, fierce shouts mingled with thereport of fire-arms.