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Fire Island, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 33. The Cat Did It |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. THE CAT DID IT The quivering continued, and the earth beneath the vessel throbbed in slow pulsations. The vivid flashes and thunderous growls as of distant explosions went on, and the rushing sound of many feet came nearer and nearer as the occupants of the brig strained their eyes to pierce the transparent darkness to get a glance of their enemies, and then all stood wondering; for after rising to a certain pitch, the rushing sound began to die away gradually. Then followed a vivid flash and a heavy boom as of some huge gun, and as it died away they were conscious of a stillness that was terrible in its oppression, the quivering beneath their feet ceased, and then startling and clear, from right away to the westward, came the piercing note of the boatswain's pipe. "Drew!" cried Oliver, joyously. "Yes, that's he," said the mate, "and he wants help. There, take charge of the deck, Mr Panton. I must go and bring him. Volunteers here: six men." Twelve sprang to his side, and he selected half a dozen, all well armed and ready to face anything. As they moved to the gangway where others held the ladder ready for them to descend, the shrill note of the whistle was heard again. "Draw up the ladder as soon as we're down, my lads," said the mate, "and stand ready to make a rush to help us when we come back, for we may be hard pressed." "Ay, ay!" came readily from the rest of the crew, and the next minute the little rescue party was off at a trot, leaving Oliver Lane and Panton feverish and excited as they writhed in their weakness and misery at being compelled to lie there inert, unable to stir a step to the help of their companion. All was still as the footsteps died out. There was no rushing sound of an enemy at hand, the explosions and flashes from the volcano had ceased, and once more it was a calm tropic night. But the shrill whistle could be heard at intervals of about a minute, sometimes sounding closer, sometimes apparently at a great distance. "Won't them black beggars hear 'em, sir?" said one of the men, drawing near to where the two young naturalists sat. "Seems to me as if it would be a deal better if Mr Drew kept that pipe in his pocket." "There are no blacks to hear them," said Panton, quietly. The man started. "Beg pardon, sir, but me and my mates heered 'em a-rooshin' along." "We all thought we did," said Panton; "but Mr Lane and I have come to the conclusion that the sounds we heard were made by animals and birds startled by the explosions at the burning mountain, and flying for safety to the lower part of the island." "Why, of course," said the man, giving his knee a slap; "there was a regular flapping noise with it, and a whizzing just as if there was swarms of great bees going along like mad. Well, I'm glad o' that, because if we did have to fight again, I don't want it to be in the dark." "There goes the whistle once more!" said Oliver excitedly, as the note rang out very clearly now, but for a long time, though they strained their ears, there was no farther sound, and they grew more and more uneasy till all at once there was a heavy thud as of some one falling. Then silence again, and a great dread fell upon the listeners, whose active brains suggested the creeping up of treacherous blacks to brain people who were in ignorance of their presence. But it was only a momentary dread, for the whistle chirruped shrilly again, very near now, and directly after there was a cheery "Ship ahoy!" "Mr Rimmer's voice," said Oliver, excitedly. "Yes," cried Panton, "cheer, my lads. Answer them." There was a roaring hail from the brig, and in a few minutes the tramp of footsteps was plainly heard, and dimly seen figures emerged from the darkness, looking grotesque and strange. "Down with the ladder, my lads," cried Mr Rimmer, and directly after, the rescue party and the explorers climbed on board, two of the men panting with exertion, and dropping to the deck the carcases of a couple of little bucks. "That's what made them so long," said Mr Rimmer, merrily. "They had shot all this good fresh meat, and it has taken them hours to bring it along. Here, cook, set to work on one of them at once, and let's all have a hot grill for supper. Two of you hang the other up here in the rigging for the night." "But what news, Drew, of the blacks?" "None at all. We found the marks where two great canoes had been dragged up over the sands, and the foot-prints of those who launched them again. Not a sign of them beside." "And our boat?" "All right. Looks as if it had not been touched," said Drew. "Hear the grumblings of the volcano?" "Yes, plainly enough." "And the rush of quite a large herd of scared animals? They nearly ran us down and would, if it had not been for the shelter of some rocks. I am glad to get back. We had an awful job to carry those two little bucks." There was a merry supper that night, and on the strength of Drew's information, the watch was somewhat relaxed, while it was late when they assembled for breakfast that morning. "Eh? What's that?" said Mr Rimmer, as the cook and Smith came to the cabin door. "Want you to come and have a look, sir," said Smith. "Look? What at? Is anything wrong?" "Well, sir, seems to me as it is a little bit not quite what it oughter be," said Smith. "There, don't talk in riddles, man," cried the mate, and he strode out to the deck, followed by Drew--Panton and Lane following to the door to see. Smith led the way to where a group of the men were standing, some with buckets and swabs, but waiting before using them until their officer gave orders. The sight that met the eyes of the new arrivals was not pleasant, but it was startling, for there was a patch of blood upon the deck, and signs of something bleeding having been dragged for a few yards to the starboard bulwarks, and then drawn up and over them, the ugly stains being on the top of the rail as well. "I don't quite understand it," said the mate, hoarsely. "Who was on the watch?" There was a dead silence. "Someone must have been. Does it mean that the poor fellow has been assassinated?" "A-mussy, no, sir," said Smith, grinning, "don'tcher see, sir? That was our other supper, as we hung up there to use to-night when t'other was done. The buck we brought home." "Oh!" exclaimed the mate. "How absurd. But what's become of it?" "It's gone, sir." "Well, we can see that, my lad. But how has it been stolen?" "Yes, sir, that's about it. In the night. Must ha' been the cat." "The what?" "Well, sir, you see, I don't means the ship's cat, because we ain't got one, but I means one o' them great spotty big toms as lives in the woods here." Taking their guns, the mate and Drew followed the trail, which was plainly enough marked from the side of the brig, the round soft foot-prints showing out in the light patches of sand, the fore paws well-defined and the hind partly brushed out, showing that the body of the deer had been dragged over them. Here and there, too, dry smears of blood were visible on the rough coral rock, where the animal had probably rested, and then dragged the carcase on again in its progress toward the nearest patch of forest. "The brute must have followed me," said Drew, "attracted by the blood which no doubt dripped as we came along, and when all was quiet followed the scent and then come on board." A quarter of a mile farther on the trail ceased, and it was plain enough why, for the soft sand was plentifully marked with foot-prints, and in one place bits of fur and smears of blood showed that there had been a fierce fight with tooth and claw, while broken bones and bits of hide with the short sharp horns pointed to the fact that the fight had been followed by a banquet, after which the leopards or panthers had trotted steadily off to the forest, the track of three or four of the great cat-like creatures being plainly marked. "No use to go hunting them," said the mate. "They go on stealing away from tree to tree, and we should never get a shot." They shouldered their guns and walked back, talking about the rushing and trampling noise of the preceding night, Drew having heard something of it from a distance and attributed it rightly to a sudden panic amongst the animals startled into headlong flight by the eruptive action of the volcano. Oliver and Panton were watching them from the bulwarks against which they leaned, using their small binoculars to watch the proceeding of their companions, and both low-spirited and looking dejected at having to stay on deck through the weakness produced by their wounds. Drew saw it as he came on board and related their experience. "Come, I say," he exclaimed at last, "don't look so down-hearted." "All very well for you," said Oliver, "you can get about. We're prisoners." "Only for a little while. It may be my turn next," said Drew. "A little while!" said Oliver, sadly. "Yes; your wound is getting better fast." Panton groaned. "And yours, too," said Drew smiling. "Yea, that's right, grin," said Panton, sourly. "You'd laugh if I were dying." "I don't know about then," replied Drew, "but I can't help laughing now." "Brute!" "No, I'm not, I was only laughing at your irritability and petulance. Sure sign that you are getting better, my lad, isn't it, doctor?" Mr Rimmer gave the speaker a good-tempered nod. "Oh, yes," he said, "Mr Panton's coming right again, fast. Nice healthy appearance about his wound, and Mr Lane's, too. When the sea fails to get me a living I think I shall set up as quack doctor. Come, gentlemen, you are getting better, you know. Not long ago you were on your backs; then you managed to sit on deck; then to stand for a bit, and now you have been here for ever so long watching us. That don't look as if you were going back." "No," said Oliver, "but I feel so weak, and it seems to be so long before we get strong." "Oh, never mind that, my dear sir, so long as you are travelling on the right way. Patience, patience. Let's get a few more days past, and then you'll be running instead of walking, and getting such a collection together as will make us all complain about the smell." Oliver smiled sadly. "Ah, but we shall," cried the mate. "That's what I like in Mr Drew's collecting, he presses and dries his bits of weeds and things, and then shuts them up in books. Mr Panton's work, too, is pleasant enough only lumpy. I shall have to get rid of the brig's ballast and make up with his specimens of minerals to take their place." "Then you mean to get the brig down to the sea again?" said Oliver sharply. Mr Rimmer took off his hat and scratched his head, as he wrinkled up his forehead and gazed with a comical look at the last speaker. "I didn't think about that," he said sadly. "Seems to me, that the sooner we set about building a good-sized lugger the better, and making for some port in Java." "No, no," cried Oliver; "there is no hurry. This is an exceptionally good place for our purpose, and we can all join hands at ship-building when we have exhausted the natural history of the island." "Very good, gentlemen, but in the meanwhile I shall strengthen our fort a little, so as to be ready for the niggers when they come again. I'll get the carpenter at work to rig up planks above the bulwarks with a good slope outwards, so that they'll find it harder to climb up next time they come." "Do you think they will come?" asked Panton, evincing more interest in the conversation. "Oh, yes, sir," said the mate thoughtfully, "such a ship as this would be a prize for them, and we shall have them again some day, as sure as a gun." _ |
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