Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > King o' the Beach: A Tropic Tale > This page
King o' the Beach: A Tropic Tale, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 17 |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. They were in total darkness, but Bostock took out his match-box and struck a light to apply to the lamp, which he coolly proceeded to regulate, and then turned to wait for the doctor to speak. Doctor Kingsmead was standing with the veins in his forehead swollen, his teeth set, and his hands clenched. "The dog--the brutal ruffian!" he said, as if talking to himself. "So helpless. Quite at his mercy. Seemed like a coward and a cur." "No, you didn't," said Carey, shortly. "We were taken by surprise, and they're seven to one, and all armed." The doctor turned to him sharply. "Seven to one?" he said. "Yes, I counted them; twenty black fellows and him." "And threes into twenty-one goes seven times," growled Bostock. "Yes, yes, seven to one," said the doctor, drawing a deep breath, "and the ruffian has us at his mercy, for those black fellows would rush at us at a word, like the black pack he calls them. It's plain enough they have been within sight in a canoe, and reported to him what they saw. The scoundrel has, no doubt, played the part of wrecker for years and taken possession of every unfortunate vessel that has come ashore, plundered and burnt it." "Humph!" growled Bostock. "What do you say?" "On'y grunted, sir. That's it. I've heard tell of chaps like him here and there in the South Seas. They knocks a few of the black fellows or coffee-coloured ones down, and makes 'em afraid, and then they do as they like, sir." "But is it true about their eating people?" said Carey, in a low voice, and he glanced at the door as if half-expecting to be overheard. "Oh, yes, sir, that's true enough. Our captain once said, when we had a report of a ship going ashore and the crew being massacred, that these chaps in some of the islands get such a little chance to have anything but fruit and fish that they're as rav'nous as wild beasts for flesh." "Yes, yes, true enough," said the doctor. "So unfortunate for them to come when we were away. We could have defended the vessel easily." "That means fighting, sir," growled Bostock. "Yes; wouldn't you have struck a blow to defend the vessel?" "Well, you see, sir, I'm only a sailor and not a fighting man," said Bostock, slowly. "You coward!" cried Carey, indignantly. "Why, boy as I am, I'd have tried to do something, if it was only reloading the guns." "Course you would, sir; I know that," said the old sailor, quietly. "Didn't you give that there nigger a smeller just now?" "What!" cried the doctor, sharply. "Got in a temper with one of 'em for trying to steal more'n his share o' 'bacco, sir, and give him two, one in the mouth and one in the cheek. Stop a moment; let's tell the truth if I die for it. Warn't one o' them cracks on the nose, sir?" "Oh, I don't know," said Carey, hurriedly. "But I did think at a time like this, you'd have been ready to fight, Bostock." "Bob, if it's all same to you, Master Carey, and I didn't say I warn't ready to fight. Why, o' course I will at the proper time." "Then I beg your pardon, Bos--" "Bob, sir." "Well, Bob then, for we can't sit down quietly like this." "That's what I think, sir, but I aren't the skipper, and it's what the doctor says as'll have to be done." "Yes, of course, Bostock," said the doctor, hastily; "but I was so absolutely stunned by this surprise." "Yes, sir, reg'lar took aback, I know." "I have not known what to do or say. I must have time to think." "That's it, sir. I know you've got to make your plans. Bit o' scheming, because we none on us want one o' them dirty black warmint's skewers run through us. You make up your mind what to do, and tell me which rope I'm to pull, and I'll spit on my hands and haul like a man." "Yes, yes, I know you will," said the doctor. "As to that old beachcomber, sir, shooting aren't in my way, but 'volvers or no 'volvers, you give the word when you're ready and I'll chuck him overboard to get some water to mix with his rum; and I believe that'd be doing a good action." "Yes," said the doctor. "Look here. That man can't go on drinking strong spirit as he does without soon being quite prostrate." Bostock looked at the speaker with an expression of disgust and contempt upon his face. "I What, sir? Do you think that old rough would ever drink enough rum to make him stupid?" "Of course." "Never, sir. He just about lives on it. Bound to say he's gone on for a score o' years. Didn't you see as he only nibbled a biscuit?" "Yes, I noticed that," said Carey, quickly. "Yes, sir. Rum won't have no more effect on him than tea would on you and me. You try another idea, sir. What do you say to frightening them black fellows overboard? They're a rum lot; just like a pack o' children. Frightened o' bogies. Show 'em a good scarecrow or tatty dooly, as the Scotch folk call it, and they'd think it was what they call a bunyip." "What's a bunyip?" "What they calls a debble-debble, sir. They're awful babies in anything they can't understand. You must give 'em some red fire, or blue fire, or 'lectricity." "Wait, wait, wait," said the doctor, impatiently. "We must temporise. It is no use to try and do anything in haste. The first thing we have to find out is whether that ruffian goes off to sleep or keeps watch." Carey pointed to the ventilator over the door. "I could see through that," he whispered, "if you could take me on your shoulders." Bostock nodded, and placed his hands firmly on the sides of the door, bending down his head and standing as firm as a rock, while Carey's first instinct was to take a run and a jump; but he did not, for one reason, there was not room, another, that it would have been folly; but he placed his hand upon the man's shoulders and steadily climbed up till he could stand stooping upon his back, and then he cautiously peered through a little crack, and the first thing he saw was the beachcomber sitting back fast asleep. This sent a thrill of satisfaction through him, and he turned his eyes towards the saloon door, and a chill of horror ran through him, for he caught sight of something bright and flashing, and it was a few moments before he grasped the fact that it was the lamp reflected from the eyes of one of the blacks close to the floor. Nearly a minute elapsed before he could make out the black figure of their owner, and then he saw it move. It was plain enough now as it crept in and nearer to the shaded rays of the lamp. Carey could even see that the black had his club and the curved knife-like blade of his boomerang stuck behind in the coarse hair girdle he wore about his waist. "Why, he's creeping in to kill his master," was the boy's first thought, and a chill of horror ran through him. The black crept slowly and silently over the floor of the saloon, and Carey would have uttered words of warning to his companions, but he could not speak, every faculty seeming frozen, save that he could see; and he stared wildly as he saw now two more pairs of eyes and a couple of the blacks creep in silently, but only to stop at the door, squatting on their heels, as if watching their leader. The latter took up Carey's whole attention now, and he waited to see him take out his club before he uttered a warning shout to the sleeping man, for he felt that he could not stand and see him murdered in cold blood. The black crept on till he was quite close to the sleeper, and then he rose, squatted like his companions, and at last raised his hand. The warning cry rose to Carey's lips, but it did not leave them, for the black did not bring out his club, but softly took down the empty glass, smelt it and then thrust in a long black finger, passed it round and sucked it, repeating the action several times, till he could get no more suggestion of the taste of the spirit, when he replaced the glass, to sit staring at the bottle; but he did not touch it, only squatted there like a great dog watching over his master, while his two companions remained silent as a couple of black statues at the door. That was enough, and Carey softly dropped down and whispered what he had seen to his companions. "And they could brain the old scoundrel at any moment with their clubs," said the doctor. "It is astonishing." "Yes, sir," said Bostock, softly; "but aren't it a bit like big savage dogs as I've seen? They could take a man by the throat and shake the life out of him in a minute, but they don't. They sits and watches over him, and it'd be an ugly business for any one as attempted to touch him. He's got hold of the black fellows, sir, and can do just what he likes with 'em. That's how it is there." "That makes our position more difficult," said the doctor. "Well, it do, sir; but if I might make so bold, I should like to propose something." "Yes, by all means, Bostock. What is it?" "You sleep on it, sir, and see how you feel in the morning--both on you, and I'll take the watch." "It is impossible to sleep to-night," said the doctor, with a sigh. "Yes; suppose those blacks were to take it into their heads to come and finish us." "Nay, they won't do that, sir. Besides, I shall be on the watch." "No," said the doctor; "you and Carey will lie down and sleep if you can. I will take the watch. Do as I tell you at once." "But it isn't fair, sir," said Carey, protesting. "I must be obeyed in this time of emergency," said the doctor, sternly. "Lie down and sleep if you can, and I will try and think out some way of proceeding. Good-night." Ten minutes later the doctor was sitting with his back to the door, and in spite of all that had gone by and the belief that he could not sleep a wink in the midst of the peril, Carey dropped off fast, and Bostock's loud breathing told that he had followed suit, while the three blacks squatted there hour after hour, watching their master and tyrant like so many faithful hounds. _ |
||