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Jack at Sea, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 32. The Evil Of Not Being Used To It |
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_ CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. THE EVIL OF NOT BEING USED TO IT But the blacks had not left the guns, and utterly unused as these two were to the use of such savage weapons, they felt a thrill of satisfaction run through them as they grasped the means of making one stroke in defence of their lives. "It's a many years since I used to go into the copses to cut myself a good hazel and make myself a bow, Mr Jack, and get reeds out of the edge of the long lake, to tie nails in the ends and use for arrows. I used to bind the nails in with whitey-brown thread well beeswaxed, and then dress the notch at the other end to keep the bowstring from splitting it up. I've hit rabbits with an arrow before now, though they always run into their holes. You can shoot with a bow and arrow at a target of course?" "I? No, Ned," said the boy sadly. "I can't do anything but read." "Oh, I say, sir! Why, I've seen you knock over things with a gun. Look how you finished that sea snake." "I suppose I'd better try though, Ned." "Why of course, sir. You take the one you like. Here's three of them. Wish they hadn't been so stingy with the arrows--only five between two of us. Never mind. Hadn't got any ten minutes ago. We'll keep a pair apiece and have one to spare, and a spear each. We'll leave the others in here, and let 'em fetch 'em if they dare." "Yes," said Jack, selecting his weapons; "but we must not go out yet." "Well, sir, I don't want to interfere, but I haven't had anything to eat since lunch yesterday, and if I don't soon do some stoking my engine won't go." "But you don't expect that you are going to kill anything with these things?" cried Jack. "I'm going to try, sir. Savages can, and have a feast of roast pig after, so we ought to be able to. Don't you think we might risk starting, and get higher up the mountain, and then round somehow, and make for the shore?" "It will be very risky by daylight." "But we can't go in the dark, sir." "Come on then," cried Jack. "The blacks may have been scared right away, so let's chance it." He led the way to the entrance, where, to the great delight of both, they found another bow lying, and close by one of the melon-headed war-clubs and a bundle of arrows, upon which Ned pounced regardless of danger, while Jack crept to the stones outside and took a long look round, over gully, rock, and patch of forest. But there was nothing living within sight but a couple of flocks of birds, one green, the others milky white, and showing plainly as they flew over against the green trees. "See anything of that lame pig, sir?" said Ned, handing him the arrows to take what he liked. "No; nor the blacks neither." "They're hiding somewhere, sir, and I dare say on the look-out, or I'd be for going to have a look below there." "That would be too risky, Ned. Let's creep to where we can get cover, and then do as you say, keep along the more open part under the trees, and see if we can get round somewhere by the sands." "On you go then, sir, and whatever you do, don't lose a chance of a shot. We must have something to eat, or we can never get back. Oh yes, you're a very beautiful island, no doubt--very well to look at, but I don't think much of a place where you can't find the very fruit as would be a blessing to us now." "And what fruit's that, Ned?" said Jack, as they reached the shelter of the trees about a couple of hundred yards from the mouth of the cave. "Well, sir, I'm not an Irishman, for as far back as I know we all came from Surrey; but I'd give something if I could find a patch of 'em going off at the haulm, ready to be grubbed up and shoved in the ashes of a fire to roast." "What, potatoes?" "Yes, sir, a good big round 'tater would just about fit me now, and I shouldn't fiddle about any nonsense as to trying it on." "There'll be no potatoes for you, Ned, but we may find some wild bananas lower down." "That's a nice comforting way of talking to a poor hungry chap who is going up, Mr Jack; but you keep a good look-out, and we must have a shot at the first thing we see, and then light a fire and cook it, and if that first thing we see happens to be a nigger, sir--well, I'm sorry for him, and I hope he won't be tough!" Ned directed a comical look at his young master as he began to try the bow, holding it in his injured, nerveless grasp, and pulling at the string. "Is it hard, Ned?" "Pretty tidy, sir. Takes a good pull, but I can manage it, and--Hullo! Look at that." He threw the bow, arrows, and spear down, stretched out his left arm to the full extent; drew it in so as to raise the biceps, and then stretched it out again, and began to move it round like the sail of a windmill. "What's the matter with you?" cried Jack. "Are you going mad?" "Pretty nigh, sir. Look at that--and that--and that!" The three "thats" were so many imaginary blows in the air, delivered sharply and with all the man's force. "But I don't understand you, Ned. What do you mean?" "Why, can't you see, sir? That arm's been as dead as a stick ever since I got that arrow, now it has come to life again, and is stronger than ever. I know what's done it!" "Being obliged to try and use it," cried Jack quickly. "That's got something to do with it perhaps, sir, but that isn't everything. It was that soaking last night, and then the stewing in that hot sand. It took all the rest of the trouble away. Now then, only let me get a chance at one of these chaps, and I'll try how he likes arrow. I'll 'arrow his feelings a bit." "But are you sure your arm is quite strong again?" cried Jack joyfully. For answer Ned swung his left round the speaker's waist, lifted him from the ground, and held him up with ease. "What do you say to that, sir? But there, come along, I want to get something to eat. I feel horrid, and begin to understand how it is that some of the people out here eat one another." "Don't keep on talking such absurd stuff, Ned," cried Jack, half angrily, half amused; for in the early stages of suffering from hunger there are symptoms of a weak hysterical disposition to laugh. "But I'm so hungry, sir!" "Well, push on, and we may get a chance at a big bird of some kind. But suppose we should shoot one--we might--these arrows may be poisoned." "Wouldn't matter, sir. They say cooking kills the poison. Which way now?" "Keep bearing to the right up the mountain, but always well within shelter. We must not be taken again." "Good-bye to the wild bananas that grow below," muttered Ned; and he pressed on eagerly, but keeping a sharp look-out all the while, and whenever an opening had to be crossed, setting the example of going down on all fours. "Won't do though to keep like this, sir," he said; "why, they'd shoot at us at once for wild beasts of some kind. But do look here, sir! Ain't it wonderful--ain't it grand? My arm feels as if it had been bottling up all its strength, and to be readier than ever now. Oh, if we could only see something to shoot at." But saving small brightly-plumaged birds, they encountered nothing to tempt the venture of an arrow, and at the end of what must have been quite two hours, when the cave of the lava flow was left far behind, and several hundred feet lower, Jack dropped upon his knees beside a lovely little pool, into which trickled through the rocks and stones a thread-like stream of the clearest water. "No, no, sir, don't drink--it's bad. Cold water when you're hot, and on an empty stomach." "But I'm so thirsty, Ned, and it looks so tempting." "I'm ever so much thirstier, sir. Look here, let's do what they do with horses. Just wash our mouths out, but don't let's swallow any." As he spoke he went to the other side of the little rock pool, which was not above a foot deep and about four across, lying close up to the foot of one of the great rock walls which grew more frequent the higher they ascended. Then together they dipped a hand in the soft, cool, limpid fluid, and raised it to their lips. "Poof!" ejaculated Ned, spluttering the water away. "Oh, what a shame! There ought to be a notice up--Beware of the water. Why, it's like poison, sir. Ten times worse than that horrid stuff by the falls. Oh, come on. Only fancy for there to be water like that. Physic's nothing to it." Jack's disappointment was a little softened by his amusement, and they resumed their tramp, rising higher and higher as they kept up a diagonal course along the mountain slope; but the difficulties in the way, and the caution requisite in passing through what they felt to be a dangerous enemy's land, made the progress slow, and after a time they seated themselves for a rest upon one of the many moss-grown masses of lava rock they passed, beneath an umbrageous tree, in which a flock of tiny finch-like birds were twittering, and once more looked around. The prospect was not wide, for they were surrounded by trees, and it was only by keeping close to one or other of the many lava rivers, where the growth of the forest was scanty, that they were able to progress as they did. "Nothing to eat, nothing to drink," groaned Ned. "I say, Mr Jack, this is getting serious. What's to be done?" "Rest a bit, and then at the first opportunity, say as soon as we have passed over that knoll there, let's begin to descend toward the shore. I hope we shall miss the blacks then." "And come across some one looking for us, sir, and carrying a basket. If it was only a bit of hard ship's biscuit now, I wouldn't care." "Hark! What's that?" "Cockatoo, sir," whispered Ned. "I know their screech. I'll go and try and get a shot at him." "Better sit still and rest, and chance the flock coming near. If you follow them they'll hear you, and lead you farther and farther away." "Yes, I know that, sir, but I'm so hungry, and I'm afraid to begin chewing leaves for fear of poison. Hullo! Don't move, sir. Hear that? You're right, this is the best way and the easiest." "What shall we do, Ned, shoot, or try to get at them with the spears?" "Let's see 'em first, sir," said Ned wisely, "and wait our chance, and then do both." The objects which had excited their attention by sundry familiar sounding grunts were not long in showing themselves in the shape of a little herd of pigs, three old ones and about a dozen half-grown; and as they came down a slope to their left, and began rooting about under the trees a couple of hundred yards away, Ned softly smacked his lips, looked at Jack, took out his brass matchbox, and said the expressive word "crackling." The formation of the mountain side was mostly that of shallow stony gullies opening one into the other, but all with the general tendency up and down, and it was on the slope of one of these that the fugitives were resting, while the herd had entered it from its highest part. Ned's fingers played tremblingly about the bow he held. Then he felt his arm, and a look of joy and pride came into his eyes. "It's all right," he whispered. "I say, sir, wasn't it a grand idea to leave some pigs here to breed? You stop quiet and wait your chance." "Why? What are you going to do?" whispered Jack. "Creep round by the back of this tree, sir, and as they feed down I'll go up the side, and by and by you'll see me dodging softly along toward you over yonder beyond them. Then we shall have 'em between us, and if they take fright they must either go up or down, and pass one of us. It's our chance, and we must not let it go. Look here, sir, you choose one of the little ones, and wait till you think you can hit him. Then hold up your hand and we'll fire together. Then run at 'em with your spear. We must get one or else starve." It was the best way of approaching success, as Jack saw, and whispering that he would do as his companion suggested, he sat there watching Ned's movements as he crept away up the slope and disappeared. Then fitting an arrow to the bowstring, after laying his spear ready by his side, he rested the bow across his knees, and sat on his mossy stone, watching the movements of the little herd, and expecting, moment by moment, to see one of the watchful elders take alarm, give warning, and the whole party dash back up the gully. But they kept rooting and hunting about, evidently for some kind of fruit which fell from the trees, and Jack felt as if he were far back in the past, a hunter on that beautiful, wild mountain slope, dependent upon his bow for his existence. The sun poured down its hot rays, making the leaves glisten like metal, and the air was so clear that the pigs' eyes and every movement were as plain as if close at hand. "Seems treacherous lying in wait like this," he thought. "Poor wretches! they all look as playful and contented as can be." But he knew that he and Ned must eat if they were ever to escape from that mountain, and the sentiment of pity died out as the time went on. The pigs were slow in coming down, for under the trees at the other side of the gully the fruit they sought seemed to be plentiful, and he could see the younger ones hunting one another as a lucky find was made, this resulting in a good deal of squealing, while above it the deep grunts of the elders were plainly heard. But there was no sight of Ned, and half-an-hour must have passed, with the pigs still out of reach for a good shot. "If they do come this way," thought the lad, "I can't study about picking one; I must shoot into the thickest part and chance it. But where is Ned? Why don't he show?" At last there was the appearance far up of a large pig coming down toward the herd, but the next moment, as it glided among the leaves, Jack saw that it was a pig with clothes on, and that it carried a bow and arrow. The time had come for a shot, and softly and slowly the lad edged himself back till he could drop on his knees behind the stone, rest the bow upon it horizontally, and wait for the critical moment to draw and launch his arrow. He could watch Ned the while as well as the herd, and by slow degrees he saw his companion creep from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, slowly diminishing the distance, while, having probably cleared off the fallen fruit, the herd broke into a trot as if to pass within twenty yards of where he waited. But the next minute they had stopped fifty yards away, and Ned had soon reduced his distance till he was about as much above them. Then all at once he disappeared. The minutes seemed to be terribly long drawn out now, but the herd came lower and lower, till fully half of them were rambling about just in front; and feeling that he would never have a better chance, the lad singled out one half-grown fellow in the midst of three more, all feeding, and he held up his hand for a moment or two in the hope that Ned might see it, though where he hid it was impossible to say. Slight as was the movement of the raised hand it was seen, for the biggest pig, a rough, bristly-necked animal, suddenly raised its head and gazed sharply, with eyes that looked fiery in the brilliant sunshine, straight in his direction. _Twang! twang_! went two bowstrings, the arrows whizzed through the air, and in the midst of a rush, away tore the herd down the valley, just as Ned leaped up, made a bound or two, and plunged his spear down amidst the bushes. Jack dropped his bow, caught up his own spear, and dashed forward to help finish the wounded pigs, and Ned was up before him, panting and dripping with perspiration. "Got one?" cried Jack. "Got one!" cried Ned bitterly. "Course we ain't. Just like my luck." "Oh!" groaned Jack, as a pang of hunger shot through him. "I never saw such arrows," cried Ned passionately. "I could smash the lot. They don't go straight." "Is it any use to follow them?" said Jack. "No, sir; it ain't," cried the man angrily. "And what's more, you know it ain't. What's the good of aggravating a poor fellow? And," he added pathetically, "I did mean to have such a roast." _ |
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