CHAPTER XII
THE LEDGE
About an hour before sunset, two men were warily feeling their way amongthe boulders that strewed the steep declivity above the ledge. Slowlythey moved downwards, rarely rising to their full height, but stoopingas they dodged in and out between the largest of the stones, and heedingtheir feet with strained watchfulness. They were Trentham and Hoole.Grinson, with the rest of their party, had been left in hiding near theburnt village, unwillingly; but Trentham had remarked that his bulkyform was ill suited to reconnaissance work; a call would be made on hisresources later.
The calm surface of the cove was spread out nearly two hundred feetbelow them. They could see two of the sheds, a few men moving about,and the seaplane lying high up on the beach; but the Raider, moored nearthe innermost shore, was at present invisible. Nor could they see theledge, almost perpendicularly beneath them, but now and then they heardthe crack of the overseer's whip, and the crash of coals as they fellupon the beach. In front of them the air was slightly darkened by dustwafted up the face of the cliff.
As they climbed lower they moved still more slowly and cautiously, oftenpausing to rest. At one of these halts Trentham leant against a largeboulder, and started back in haste as it moved, swaying slightly andnoiselessly like those rocking stones which are to be found here andthere on our coasts, and which, insecurely poised though they seem, arerarely moved from their seats. The risk of disturbing the boulder andbetraying his presence brought a momentary pallor to his cheeks. Whenthey moved on again, they tested every upstanding rock before puttingany pressure upon it, and found more than one which very little forcewould cause to fall.
The boulders gave effective cover from observation from the beach, andthe contour of the cliff hid them from the sentry on the cliff pathseveral hundreds of yards away. But presently the descent becamesteeper; they caught sight of the top of the Raider's wireless mast; thesounds from the ledge and the beach grew more distinct and the dustcloud denser. They seemed to have come to the end of the scattered massof boulders, and peering over, they saw a fairly smooth slope, too steepto climb, lacking in cover, and ending in a sharp edge between fifty andsixty feet below. Any boulders that in times past may have rolled herehad found no lodgment, or, at any rate, must have long since fallen intothe cove.
While they were crouching behind the lowest of the boulders, wonderinghow they could determine the exact position of the prisoners, they hearda shout from beyond the ledge, followed by an answering call, fainter,more distant. They shrank back, half fearing that they had been seen;but the shouts were not repeated, and there was no sign of excitementamong the men on the beach.
A few minutes later, apparently from a spot immediately beneath them,came the sound of a voice speaking in loud tones, yet not so clearlythat they could distinguish the words. It broke off once or twice, andthey listened for an answering voice, but heard none. Then one shoutedword struck distinctly upon their ears. 'Pig!' Stretching forward,they strained their hearing. 'You shall zink all night ... shoot youdead. Understand?'
There was silence. Trentham's and Hoole's eyes met.
'Hahn?' murmured Trentham.
Hoole nodded.
'Bullying Meek,' he whispered.
Trentham cast his eye along the irregular line of boulders. A few yardsfrom the spot where they were crouching, two jagged rocks, between fourand five feet high and about three feet wide at the base, stood almostparallel with the edge of the slope, and about two feet apart. Crawlingto them, Trentham pushed them gently from behind, then more firmly,finally with all his strength. They did not yield by the smallestfraction of an inch. Carefully marking their position, the two menclambered back among the boulders, gained the top of the ridge morequickly than they had descended, and hastened to rejoin their party,guiding themselves by the trunks of trees and bushes which Hoole hadbeen careful to 'blaze' as they came. There was just light enough tosee the marks.
When they regained the thicket where they had left the others, Grinsoncame forward eagerly to meet them.
'Any luck, sir?' he asked anxiously. 'Did ye find Ephraim?'
'We know pretty well where he is,' replied Trentham.
'Safe and sound?'
'That I can't say exactly, but he 's sound enough to make Hahn call hima pig.'
'Pig! A lamb like Ephraim! By thunder, sir, if I get my fingers onthat there Hahn I 'll teach him! Ephraim a pig! Blast my--
'Steady, Grinson,' interrupted Hoole. 'Meek isn't damaged by Hahn'sabuse. Things are more serious than that. From what we overheard, it'spretty sure that Meek has refused to do something that Hahn ordered.'
'Good lad! I 'll----'
'Wait. Hahn has given him all night to think it over; he threatens toshoot him.'
Grinson was silenced. His heat was quenched by speechless care. Fixinghis eyes anxiously on Trentham, he said quietly:
'Anything you order, sir.'
'We 'll save him if we can,' said Trentham. 'We 've hard work in frontof us, but with care and good fortune--by the way, Hoole, can you findyour way back in the dark?'
'The moon 's up, my son. She 's riding low, but she 'll last longenough for this stunt, I reckon.'
'Good! Now, Grinson, cut a stout pole from a tree--as strong as you canfind, three to four feet long.'
'Ay, ay, sir!' responded the boatswain, whipping out his knife.
While he was gone about his task, Trentham explained to Lafoa, theinterpreter, that the position of the prisoners had been roughlylocated, and asked him to inform the rest of the party. They would haveto march to the cliff in the waning moonlight, keeping absolute silence,and be ready to do instantly and exactly what they were ordered. Thesafety of their chief Flanso and his fellow prisoners would depend ontheir prompt obedience.
On Grinson's return, Trentham ordered one of the men to unwind the ropefrom his body, and the boatswain to fasten one end of it to the pole.He then slung the pole over a thick branch of a tree, and bade half theparty of natives hang on to it, while Grinson and the other half heldthe loose end of the rope. The test being satisfactory, and the ropehaving been wound over the pole, they formed up in single file, and,Hoole leading, set out over their former tracks for the cliff. Not aword was spoken. The bare feet of the natives made no sound; thefootsteps of the white men could scarcely have been heard if anywatchers had been lurking in the bush. The rays of the moon, near itssetting, gave Hoole light enough to distinguish the blazed trees, andthey marched rapidly. Presently the prevailing stillness was invaded bythe soft rustle of the surf, and they caught sight of the glisteningpath of the moonlight stretching far across the sea. Slackening hispace a little, so as to reduce the slight sounds made by the white men'sboots, Hoole led the party unerringly to the crest of the boulder-strewnslope. There they halted.
There were whispered explanations and instructions. Grinson, in spiteof his anxiety for Meek, was a little daunted by the difficulties of theplan unfolded to him. The exact position of the prisoners on the ledgewas unknown. A sentry would certainly be on guard. An incautiousmovement, the accidental disturbance of a stone, a misjudgment ofdistance in the dark, might involve not only the failure of the scheme,but death to its authors. Trentham did not minimise the dangers; theyhad all been canvassed by Hoole and himself; indeed, he was prepared tofind that some factor which he had been unable to take into accountwould render his plan unworkable.
'But we are not going to attempt the impossible, Grinson,' he said. 'Weshall first discover what 's possible, and then--well, you 're not theman to jib at a risk.'
'True, sir, and Ephraim is worth it. I 'll say no more.'
They waited until the sinking moon gave just light enough to see the tworocks which Trentham and Hoole had marked on their previous visit; thenthey stole down the slope among the boulders. For greater security thewhite men had removed their boots. On reaching the furthermost of theboulders they halted again.
Trentham placed the log of wood across thegap between the two rocks, and got Grinson to loop the loose end of therope under his armpits. When the moon had wholly disappeared below thehills behind, and the face of the cliff was dark, he crawled inch byinch down the bare slope, and peeped cautiously over the edge.
The cove, the beach, the ledge--all were now within his range of vision.His eyes were first attracted by lights below. There was a glimmeringlamp on the Raider's deck forward; the deck appeared to be unoccupied,and no lights shone from the portholes. All three sheds wereilluminated, and from the murmur of voices Trentham guessed that theGermans were at their evening meal. No one was moving on the beach.Then he noticed a slight intermittent glow some distance away on hisright; behind it a face was momentarily lit up. Without doubt itproceeded from the pipe of the sentry on the ledge. Trentham recalledthe position as he had seen it from the other side of the cove when hemade his first reconnaissance. The sentry was evidently posted at theinner end of the ledge, where one path led to the beach, another woundround the cliff. These were the only avenues of escape; the other endof the ledge was blocked. The fact that the sentry was smoking arguedthat discipline was less strict here than it would have been on boardship; probably vigilance also was less rigid. What had the Germans tofear from their cowed slaves, and the natives of the village they hadterrorised?
Withdrawing his eyes from this extremity of the ledge, Trentham couldjust distinguish the outlines of baskets laid against the cliff wall.Then he started, and felt his pulses quicken. Surely that pallid objectbelow him, a little to his left, was a man's face. He closed his eyes,and reopening them after a few moments found that he could see moreclearly. Beyond doubt a white man was standing close against the wall.His attitude was peculiarly rigid. The explanation flashed uponTrentham; Meek was tied up.
Trentham looked up and down the ledge for the native prisoners. Blackthough they were, he expected to be able to discover them, even in thedarkness, by some movement or sound. He was as much perplexed assurprised at discerning no sign of them. Where, then, were they kept?
Meek, however, was his first concern. How long had the seaman been tiedup? Was he conscious, and able to assist in his release? It wasimpossible to tell. Wriggling along the edge of the slope until he wasexactly over Meek's position, Trentham took a short peg from his pocket,drove it into the soil, and attached to it a thin line of fibre which hehad brought with him. Then, holding the line, he crawled carefully upthe slope, and rejoined his party.
In a few whispered words he related the extent of his discoveries.
'Better 'n we could expect, sir,' murmured Grinson, with a long breathof relief. 'If the look-out is smoking----'
'Yes,' interrupted Trentham, 'but we mustn't rely too much on that. Hemay be relieved at any minute; we can't tell. We must get to work whilethe men are still feeding. Ready, Hoole?'
'Sure!' was the reply.
Following the guiding line, of which Grinson now held the upper end, thetwo men crept down the slope. Grinson understood that the line would beused to signal how to deal with the thicker rope, which was coiled roundthe log laid across the two rocks. When they reached the edge, Trenthamtransferred the coil of rope from his own arms to those of Hoole, whowas to descend first on to the ledge. They were both conscious thatthis was a critical moment. A fall of earth as the rope strained overthe edge could hardly fail to arouse the sentry. A man issuing from oneof the sheds might notice, even in the dark, the white clothes of theclimber, stained though they were. The first misfortune might beavoided with care; the second was at the mercy of chance.
Hoole felt with his hand for a hard smooth spot upon the edge, overwhich the rope might pass without risk of displacing earth. Then hepeered along the ledge from end to end. The sentry was still smoking;no one was visible but Meek. Sounds of talking came from the shed,punctuated by the regular recurring swish of the surf.
'Good luck!' Trentham whispered.
Hoole gave three jerks on the thin line he carried, then slid over theedge. The rope tightened under his armpits; the natives above slowlypaid it out. He sank out of sight, and it seemed an age to Trenthambefore two jerks signalled that he had reached the ledge. A few secondslater a single jerk indicated that the rope might be drawn up. When itcame over the edge, Trentham instantly passed the loop over hisshoulders, repeated the signal for lowering, and in half a minute wasstanding beside Hoole, close against the cliff wall.
Both were panting with excitement. No fresh sound was added to thosethey had already heard; their descent had been unperceived.
Each went at once about the task previously agreed on. Hoole took a fewpaces towards the sentry, and revolver in hand, stood on guard, whileTrentham, with quick, silent cuts of his knife, released thehalf-unconscious seaman.
'Not a word, Meek,' whispered Trentham, as he placed the loop under theman's shoulders. 'Grinson is waiting for you above.'
He jerked on the line. Meek slowly ascended, and his clothes beingdark, his form could scarcely be distinguished against the cliff. Hehad only just disappeared over the edge when a light was suddenly thrownon the beach by the opening of the door of one of the sheds. There wasa burst of louder talking, and a group of seamen issued forth, andambled down to a dinghy lying a few yards above the surf. Hoole andTrentham slipped silently down, and lay flat against the wall. Theyheard the scrape of the boat as it was hauled over the sand, the clatterof boots as the men climbed into it, then the rattle of oars in therowlocks. The men were boarding the Raider; from her deck they mightsee movements on the ledge. Was this to be the end of the adventure?
For a few minutes the voices of the Germans rose from the vessel; thenthey ceased, and Hoole, raising his head cautiously, saw that the deckwas clear.
'Now for the sentry!' he whispered.
Foreseeing that the native prisoners, when they should be discovered andreleased, might hail their deliverance with shouts of joy, Trentham hadarranged with Grinson that Lafoa, the interpreter, should be lowered tothe ledge when he gave the signal. But he had not expected anydifficulty in finding the prisoners' whereabouts. The presence of thesentry showed that they were somewhere on the ledge, and he felt someanxiety lest they were near the German, and would be disturbed as Hoolewent forward to deal with him. For this reason, when Hoole was about togrope his way along the ledge, Trentham detained him by a whisper, andsignalled to Grinson by means of the line. A minute later he heard asound above as the Papuan came dangling down at the end of the rope--asound so slight that it could not have been heard by the sentry amid therustle of the surf. He caught Lafoa about the body, released him fromthe rope, and then, in the briefest sentences of which pidgin English iscapable, instructed him in the part he was to play presently.
Hoole started, stealing along inch by inch under the cliff wall, takingadvantage of its inequalities and of the baskets which were ranged inline against it. He had gone forward only about a dozen yards, however,when Trentham, who could just distinguish his form, saw him halt,crouching low. The sentry's pipe was still emitting its glow at regularintervals as the man puffed. It was clear that he had not beendisturbed, and Trentham, wondering why Hoole had stopped, stole forwardto join him, carrying the rope with which Meek had been bound.
The American was lying almost flat, peering between the bars of a woodengrating that covered a hole in the cliff.
'Listen!' he whispered, as Trentham came up behind him.
And then Trentham heard, from behind the grating, sounds of deepbreathing, as of many men asleep. Nothing could be seen in the pitchblackness within; but the two men concluded that they had found theplace in which the natives were confined. Worn out by long hours offatiguing work to which they were unused, the prisoners, no doubt, weresleeping the heavy sleep of exhaustion.
Hoole was about to go forward, when he was arrested by a sound somedistance ahead. He dropped flat again, and taking up handfuls of coaldust, rubbed it all over his clothes. Trentham followed his ex
ample.They now identified the sound as footsteps; in a few moments they hearda voice, then a tapping.
'Sentry being relieved; knocking out his pipe,' Hoole whispered.
They lay watching, listening, with their hearts in their mouths. Wouldthe Germans come to look at the man they had tied up? Or would therelieving sentry be satisfied by his comrade's report that all was well,and take up his post without investigation? If both should come alongthe ledge together, it was hopeless to expect that they could besilenced without one or other having time to give the alarm. They mighteven see the white clothes, in spite of the coating of coal dust, beforethey came within reach. A single shout would arouse the Germans below,and all would be over.
The footsteps drew nearer; two voices were heard. The new sentryexchanged a few words with his comrade; then the heavy boots of thelatter rang on the path leading downwards to the beach. The risk washalved! A match was struck; the newcomer lit his pipe, and for a minuteor two paced up and down a short stretch of the ledge. Hoole hoped thathe would soon tire of this, and sit, as his comrade presumably had done,smoking placidly, dreaming perhaps of a little cottage somewhere in theFatherland.
But presently the slow footsteps approached. The scent of tobacco smoketouched the nostrils of the waiting men. The sentry was coming to lookat his prisoner. Trentham and Hoole crawled back silently a few yards,and effaced themselves as well as they could behind the baskets. TheGerman came slowly on, humming between his closed lips. He reached thetunnel, and stood at the grating for a few moments; the watchers saw thereflection of his glowing pipe on his face as he pressed it closeagainst the bars. Humming again, he sauntered on towards the post whereMeek had been tied, walking outside the line of baskets, and passing thehidden men within a couple of yards.
Now was the critical moment. Feeling that the whole success of theenterprise hung on the next few seconds, Hoole pulled himself together,got to his feet, and noiselessly on his stocking soles tip-toed afterthe German. From below came the restless murmur of the surf. Hoole'sfootsteps could not have been heard, yet the German, perhaps moved bythat strange sense one has of being followed, was on the point ofturning round, when a hard fist caught him with the force of asledge-hammer behind his right ear, and he fell like a log. Trentham,who had followed stealthily, instantly dashed forward, and before thestunned man regained consciousness he was bound hand and foot with therope that had tortured Meek, and a gag, torn from Hoole's coat, wasfirmly wedged between his teeth.
NOISELESSLY ON HIS STOCKING SOLES TIP-TOED AFTER THEGERMAN.]
Leaving him where he lay, the two men summoned Lafoa to join them, andled him to the tunnel. Groping over the grating, Hoole discovered thewooden bolt with which it was fastened, quietly removed the cover, andsigned to Lafoa to go in.
There was another moment of tense anxiety. Grunts, ejaculations, thestir of movement, were heard from the depths of the tunnel. Somethingfell with a sharp crack--a pick which one of the men had displaced. Atthe mouth of the tunnel it sounded like a pistol shot, and Hoole andTrentham swung round and looked apprehensively towards the beach. Allwas still, there. No doubt the wash of the sea was loud enough tosmother the single sharp sound at a distance.
It was evident that Lafoa had intelligently grasped his instructions,for the natives, as they filed out, though their movements were quickand urgent, made scarcely a sound. In a long string they followedTrentham to the spot where the rope dangled over the wall of the ledge.Trentham found that his hands were trembling as he slid the rope overthe shoulders of the first man. If only he could have multiplied therope! Each ascent would take at least half a minute. How many men werethere? What might not happen before they were all in safety above? Oneby one he looped them, saw them rise, caught the descending rope.Hoole, who had counted them out, came up to them and whispered'Thirty-four.' More than a quarter of an hour must elapse before thelast man had ascended, and some of those at the end of the line wereshowing signs of restlessness, grunting, sighing, clicking with theirtongues. Moment by moment Trentham expected some of them to whoop withexcitement. 'Make all fella no talkee!' he whispered to Lafoa, and theman went along the line muttering fierce threats.
The thirty-fourth man had gone. Lafoa followed him, then Hoole. Not asound had been heard from below but the murmur of the sea and themuffled voices of the men in the sheds. With intense relief, and thefeeling that fortune could hardly betray them now, Trentham loopedhimself and signalled to be hoisted. He was barely half way to the topwhen a sharp clatter above made his blood run cold. Crack followedcrack, then for a second there were a number of dull thuds, and finally,a tremendous crash on the ledge below, waking echoes around the cove.One of the natives, in climbing among the boulders, had displaced alarge rock.
The doors of the sheds were burst open. Lights shone across the cove.Men came rushing out, calling to one another, to the sentry above, tothe men on the Raider. 'Faster! Faster!' Trentham cried inwardly, as hewas jerked upward. He was just over the edge when a blinding lightswept across the face of the cliff. The searchlight's beams fell fullupon Trentham's white-clad form. Slipping out of the loop, he scrambledon hands and knees up the sloping ascent towards the boulders. Belowhim there was a sputtering rattle, and he felt himself splashed withearth and stones as the rain of machine-gun bullets pecked at the cliff.Something hot stung his leg; he crawled faster; in another moment hisshoulders were grasped by sinewy hands, and Grinson and Hoole betweenthem lugged him over the brink and behind the protecting boulders.
'Thanks be for all mercies!' panted Grinson. 'And as for that clumsylubber that kicked down the rock----'
'Shoo!' whistled Hoole, 'it's time, sure, to cut and run!'