The Bungalow Boys in the Great Northwest

  CHAPTER XXII.

  MUTINY.

  "Flunked!" choked out the rancher, with a bitter little laugh. He handedthe pistol to Tom.

  "Here, you try. I'm free to admit that I haven't the grit to go throughwith it again."

  Tom took the pistol almost mechanically. His disappointment was as keenas that of the others. They had keyed themselves up to the last notch ofcourage and determination, it seemed, and now it was all to be done overagain. No wonder that the Kanakas' reserve gave way under the strain,and that they sat chattering hysterically as Tom dully examined thechambers of the revolver.

  Right then he made a discovery that startled him. Their next attemptwould be their last in very fact. Evidently Lake had been firing off hispistol before they set out for the hills--target practice was a commondiversion of his,--and only two shells had been left in the chamber whenTom appropriated the weapon. Chillingworth had fired one, leaving asolitary cartridge undischarged.

  The sharp crack of the pistol was followed by anotherroar, more awful and awe-inspiring.]

  Without another word--without even notifying them of his discovery,--Tombalanced the revolver for an instant in his hand, and then taking fairaim hesitated no longer, but pulled the trigger.

  Hardly had his finger crooked before the sharp crack of the pistol wasfollowed by another roar, infinitely more awful and awe-inspiring. Ablast of hot gas swept back in their faces, and Tom felt himself beingpicked up bodily by some mysterious force and dashed against the rock.He realized no more. How much later he recovered his senses he did notknow, but he opened his eyes to find daylight streaming into the cave.

  Under the tremendously powerful forces of Professor Dingle's explosivethe great rocking stone had been, not blown to bits, but literallymelted away. But this they did not find out till later. Tom's first taskwas to arouse the others who lay in a semi-stupor all about him. He gotthe water canteen which had been brought with them and dashed some ofits contents in his companions' faces. Presently they began to stir.Except for a cut above the professor's eye, where a flying stone hadstruck him, they were uninjured.

  But the gases of the explosive had given them all splitting headaches,and as soon as they had recovered enough to be able to stand uprightthey hastened toward the glorious daylight which came pouring in--thedaylight they thought they had forever bidden farewell to.

  The storm had passed away, only distant grumblings of thunder remainingto tell of it. The sky was blue and clear once more. The lowness of thesun showed that it must be late in the afternoon. They must, therefore,have lain unconscious for some time. The first thing to be done was, ofcourse, to make all haste away from the spot. A glance about them showedthat by good fortune the ledge of rock remained intact. But at its edge,and quite close to them, lay a curious object which it was some timebefore they made out to be a rifle.

  It must have been Simon Lake's, and the weapon had probably been tornfrom his pocket by some freak of the same shaft of lightning that senthim to his death in the depths below. The electric fluid had actuallymelted the steel and fused stock, lock and barrel into one mass ofmolten metal. Tom shuddered as he thought of the shock that must havepassed through Lake when the bolt struck.

  A feeling of gloom came over the party, for base as Lake had been inlife the manner of his death was surely a terrible one. Perhaps it was aretribution for his wild, lawless life. Tom at least felt that perhapsthis was so. One thing was certain, the depths of the narrow rift wouldprove his sepulchre, for to have recovered his body from thoseprofundities would have been impossible.

  "Boss, me think me know um way to de cove wot bad man tell about," saidMonday suddenly, as they were discussing their next step.

  "You do? Good boy!" cried Tom; "then lead ahead."

  "Yes, go in front," said the professor, "but first tell us how you cometo know anything about the path."

  "Long time ago, boss, as I tell you, me here in whaler," said Monday;"captain he bad man. Beat me and Tuesday. Pretty soon we desert. We comehide up in here. Find plenty paths every place."

  Before many minutes they had climbed the steep flight of natural stepsleading to the cliff summit, and stood there with a glorious panorama attheir feet. At least the beauty was there to be enjoyed had they had theinclination or the opportunity to gaze upon it.

  To the south lay the settlement. Its huts looked like tiny toys fromthat height, and at that distance. Between them and the settlement thedark gorge stretched forbiddingly, and beyond the gorge the eye restedon the endless wastes of greenish-brown thicket. All about was stretchedthe sea, and perhaps they did scan this rather more closely than theyhad the rest of the outlook. But if any of them had hoped to spy avessel--as men will hope for vain things--they were disappointed. Thevast stretches of ocean about them were as empty of life as a desert.Under the sun the waves glistened and danced as if in mockery of theirhelplessness.

  "Well, what's the course now?" inquired Mr. Chillingworth presently,with an assumption of cheerfulness.

  "We will head through the bush under Monday's guidance," said theprofessor, "and find the boat which Lake mentioned as being moored inthe cove. When we have found it we will row as close to the settlementas we dare and try in some way to secure food. But, of course, you donot need to be told that my main object in going there is to recover myboy. It was a grievous oversight not to have brought him with us; but itcannot be helped now. I think it only fair to add that if any one isopposed to my program that I will strike off alone when we reach thecoast and the rest of you can take the boat."

  "As if we would!" said Tom. "No, sir, we'll stand by you, and if we getrecaptured trying to get your boy, why, we won't be any worse off thanwe were before."

  "That's right," agreed Mr. Chillingworth, "we'll stay with you till thefinish, professor."

  As Monday and Tuesday had appeared to entertain no doubts as to theirplace being at the professor's side, no more words were exchanged. Astart was at once made down the rough path Monday declared would leadthem in due course to the cove where the boat, which Zeb Hunt and Lakehad used on their visits to the cave, was moored. After some time spentin laboriously traversing slippery rocks and pushing through thornyscrub, they emerged at length on the shores of a small cove.

  Tom gave a shout as he discerned under some overhanging bushes theoutline of a small white boat secured to the same clump which partiallyconcealed it from view.

  "The boat!" he cried. "So Lake did tell us the truth, after all."

  "Unfortunate fellow," said the professor; "I am glad that almost hislast words to us were not fabrications."

  The little craft was soon cast loose, and with the two pairs of oarsfound in her, the Kanakas made her fairly skim over the water. Althoughthey were by no means out of their peril yet, and were tired, hungry andthirsty, the adventurers could not repress a low cheer as the boatforged forward. At least they had a good boat under them, and the oceanbefore them when once they had secured the professor's little boy and astore of provisions.

  The sun's disc was almost dipping below the western rim of the sea asthey emerged from the cove, and the Kanakas, keeping cautiously close tothe shore, began to pull down the coast toward the settlement. By thetime they were approaching a little wooded point jutting out from themain part of the island it was almost dark.

  "Beyond that point lies the settlement, according to my calculations,"said Mr. Chillingworth. "I think our best plan would be to run the boatashore at this side of the point and then clamber over the little neckof land. In that way we can see what is going on and how the land lieswithout exposing our lives unnecessarily."

  The others agreed with him that this would be the best course to pursue,so drawing the boat up on the beach, taking care that some treessheltered it from view, they set out to cross the neck of land.

  It was almost as rough traveling as on the trail, and in their exhaustedcondition it took them longer than it ordinarily would to attain theemine
nce. When they finally reached the summit, however, and were ableto see the other side, they saw that Mr. Chillingworth's guess had beenright. The settlement lay at their feet. In the dim dusk the outlines ofthe big barnlike place where the Chinese were housed, towered upstarkly. Out in the lagoon they could see the dark outlines of theschooner as she swung at her anchorage.

  But as they gazed there came a startling sound: the sharp report of apistol, followed by a regular fusillade of shots.

  The uproar seemed to come from the centre of the collection of huts andshanties, and down toward the beach. While they stood gazing, dumb withastonishment at this new surprise, a tongue of flame flickered upwardfrom one of the structures, and rapidly grew larger. The conflagrationmomentarily roared higher, crimsoning the sky and sea with a lurid glow.

  "It's the store!" cried Tom as he gazed at the raging fire, "somethingterrible has happened."

  "Mutiny and riot!" struck in Mr. Chillingworth, as a wild noise ofshouts and yells and confused shooting was borne to their ears.