CHAPTER V
IN THE TOILS
Trentham looked round. Mushroom Hill reared its strange form into thesky on their left hand--forty miles away, Haan had said. Between it andthem stretched unbroken forest, an undulating sea of green. There wasforest on their right, in front, behind.
'It's like looking for the proverbial needle in the bundle of hay,' hesaid.
'But we might track him through the undergrowth,' suggested Hoole. 'Hecouldn't pass without leaving traces--a big fellow, with big boots.'
'Yes; a solid-looking fellow, too; not the kind of man to do anything somad as Grinson suggests.'
'Ah, sir, 'tis them as are the worst when the feeling gets a hold,' saidGrinson. 'There was once a messmate o' mine, Job Grindle by name----'
'Really we must lose no time,' Trentham interrupted. 'The sun will bedown in two hours or less. He was on that side, Hoole? Then let usstart from there, and all keep together.'
They examined the slight eminence where Hoole had last seen theDutchman. The plants were beaten down over a space of a few yards,where the man had walked to and fro; but beyond this narrow area therewas no sign of footsteps in any direction.
'Very odd,' said Trentham. 'He must have gone back the way we came.'
They retraced their steps towards the clearly marked track of theircourse through the forest.
''Tis my belief the cannibals come up and cotched him again,' said Meek.
'But they must have passed us before they reached him,' said Trentham.'He would have sung out.'
'And even if they took him by surprise a big fellow like him wouldn'thave been overpowered without a struggle,' added Hoole. 'There 's nosign of it. And they would hardly have been satisfied with one victimwhen they might have had five. I guess Grinson is right, after all.Now let us look at the proposition from that point of view. Say thatHaan was seized with the roaming fever--that is, was more or less mad.There's a deal of cunning in madmen, and he 'd naturally try to cover uphis tracks. He would expect us to go back over our course, so that'sthe very way he wouldn't go. What do you say?'
'It sounds reasonable, but where are his tracks? How could he coverthem?'
'Let's go back to where I last saw him. I have an idea.'
Retracing their steps to the rising ground, they examined once more thefew yards which Haan had trodden. Beyond this clear space trees ofvarious species grew somewhat thickly together. Hoole went up to themand began to look closely at the trunks.
'Ah, maybe he 's sitting up aloft a-grinning at us,' said Grinson,peering up into the foliage--'for a joke, like.'
'I never could understand a joke,' murmured Meek.
'Here you are,' cried Hoole, laying his hand on a twisted and knobbytrunk. 'He shinned up here.'
There were on the bark scratches that might have been made by nails in aheavy sole. But Haan was not discoverable amid the leaves above.
'The madman!' exclaimed Trentham.
'With a madman's cunning,' said Hoole. 'Clearly he wanted to throw usoff, and he deserves to be left to his fate. But, of course, we can'tleave him to his fate. I suppose he went from tree to tree, and thendropped to earth again when he thought he had done us. It would be ahopeless job to attempt to track him through the foliage; but we knowthe direction in which he went, and I dare say we 'll find his tracesnot far away. Let us go on; scatter a little; the forest isn't thickhereabouts, and we can see each other a few yards apart. If we don'tfind him by nightfall, we shall simply have to give it up, camp for thenight, and then make tracks for Mushroom Hill.'
Following his suggestion, they went forward in a line, looking up intothe foliage, and closely examining the undergrowth for signs of itshaving been trampled down. Every now and then they stopped to listen;they dared not shout, but Hoole sometimes ventured upon a low whistle.
After they had progressed slowly for about half an hour, Meek suddenlysniffed, and caught Grinson by the arm.
'Summat burning, Mr. Grinson,' he said.
'Well, you 've a long nose, Ephraim. You 're right, me lad; I smell itmyself.' He coughed lightly to attract the attention of Trentham, a fewyards on his right. The four men grouped themselves. Hoole took outhis revolver. They stood in silence, listening, looking in thedirection from which the smell of burning came. There was no sound ofcrackling, no sign of smoke, and after a minute or two they went forwardcautiously.
Soon they halted in astonishment. They had come upon a stretch ofblackened undergrowth, upon which lay a few trees that bore the mark ofan axe; others, still erect, were black for many feet from their base.The air was full of the smell of burnt wood.
'Surely the madman didn't set fire to the trees?' said Trentham.
'This wasn't done to-day,' said Hoole, touching a blackened trunk.'It's not hot. But it wasn't long ago. Look here; the remains of aladder.'
He had picked up at the foot of a tree what was clearly the charredremnant of a ladder of bamboo.
'Bless my eyes, sir, 'tis a village,' said Grinson. 'When I was atMoresby some years ago they showed me a photograph of one--a treevillage, the little houses perched up aloft, and ladders to get to 'em.There 's been a fire, that's clear.'
'And no fire-engine,' said Meek. 'A terrible calamity, to be sure.'
Hoole had gone a few steps ahead.
'Here 's the sea,' he called. 'We 're on the edge of a cliff. And byJove! Trentham, look here!'
The others went forward and joined him. They looked down upon a narrowravine--a steep valley such as is called a chine in the South ofEngland. At the foot of the thickly wooded banks a stream flowed outinto a small bay almost landlocked by high cliffs. And in the middle ofthe bay lay a vessel--a long blue shape with a single funnel.
'The Raider!' ejaculated Grinson with an oath.
'THE RAIDER!']
'I guess you 're right,' said Hoole quietly. 'And there 's that cloud ofsmoke we saw in the distance this morning.'
A slight dark cloud was rising above the cliff near the vessel. It didnot proceed from the Raider's funnel. Was it possible that a consort ofhers lay beyond the point?
The four men, standing just within the forest verge, gazed for a fewmoments in silence at this unexpected scene. Then Trentham turned.
'We had better get back--to where we can see Mushroom Hill,' he said, agrave note in his voice.
'And give up Haan?' said Hoole.
'And give up Haan. Haan may go hang. Let us go at once; it 'll be darksoon.'
They retraced their steps through the burnt village, Hoole and Trenthamwalking side by side, the two seamen following.
'I wondered why the fellow spelt his name to us; you remember?H-a-a-n,' said Trentham. 'It's clear as daylight now. He 's a German;was on that raider; a petty officer, I suppose; his name 's Hahn.'
Hoole whistled under his breath.
'They played some devilry with the natives, I suppose,' Trentham wenton; 'burnt their village, very likely; Hahn strayed and gotcollared--and we saved one of the ruffians who sunk us!'
'And he 's got away and rejoined--with my watch!' cried Hoole. 'What analmighty fool I was! And I gave him five minutes' extra sleep! Thatstings, Trentham, and will till my dying day.'
'He beat us: in slimness the Hun always will. I haven't a doubt he wasplaying tricks with us all the time. His Mushroom Hill--faugh!'
'You mean?'
'I mean that I don't believe that's our way at all. He reckoned on ourgetting hopelessly lost--starving--falling into the hands of thesavages.'
'Well, for my part, I 'd as soon fall into their hands as the Germans'.You don't think he 'll send the Huns after us, then?'
'Not he! I don't suppose he 'll mention us, thinking us well out of theway. He 'll probably pitch some tall yarn about his clever escape fromthe cannibals--very likely write a book about it. Upon my word, Hoole,after what we know----'
'Well, I reckon we 're done pretty brown, but I 'm no
t inclined to givehim best. We 'll get to Friedrich What-do-you-call-it in spite of him,and not by Mushroom Hill either. We 'll stick to the coast--confoundhim! He was so precious careful to keep us away from it.'
'We can only try; it's a ticklish affair, Hoole.'
'I know it is, old son. The food question.'
'Don't worry about that. Where there are men there must be food.'
'That's true; but I 'd rather find the food where there weren't men, ifthe men are like those dancing hoodlums on the beach. One thing; theHun's frightfulness has probably scared away all the natives from theseparts, so we 'll be able to rest in peace to-night and start afresh inthe morning.'
'I hope so. We had better camp where Hahn left us; I 'll tell the menthere.'
They went on over their former tracks. A wind was rising, and thefoliage overhead rustled like the hissing of breakers on a shinglybeach. Conversation ceased; each was busy with his own uneasy thoughts.The rays of the setting sun filtered through the trees from behind them,and presently they came in sight of the open space where Hahn haddeserted them. And then the two young men suddenly halted; Trenthamwheeled round and put his fingers over his lips in sight of the seamen.
In the middle of the clearing, just where Grinson had lain, a dark,naked figure was stooping and closely examining the ground. He had hisback to them, but a moment after they had stopped he sprang up suddenlyand turned towards them, his head raised like that of a wild animal thatscents danger. For a few moments he stood motionless in the full glowof the sunlight--a tall lithe figure, like a statue in bronze. Hisright hand clutched a spear.
The watchers had time to notice his well-proportioned form; his colour,lighter than that of the natives they had already seen; a grace ofbearing that gave him an indefinable distinction; then he was gone, asif by magic. Where he had been he was no longer; it was as if he haddissolved like Pepper's ghost.
After waiting a little, Hoole stole forward to reconnoitre. The spacewas vacant; there was no sign of savages lurking among the surroundingtrees. He returned to the others.
'No one there,' he said under his breath.
'D' you think he saw us?' asked Trentham.
'No. I couldn't see you from the edge. But he was uneasy.'
'So am I! We had better avoid that spot. I 'd rather not meet any morenatives just yet! We had better go rather deeply into the forest, andperch up in trees for the night. There 's only about half an hour ofdaylight left; we shall probably be pretty safe in the dark. Indaylight--well, we shall have to look out.'
They had spoken in whispers. The seamen had watched them anxiously;Grinson, usually talkative enough, had not uttered a word for some time.Trentham in a few sentences explained his plan; then led the way withHoole into the forest, in a direction at right angles to their formercourse.
The dying sunlight scarcely penetrated the thick canopy above them. Thegreenish gloom lent pallor to their cheeks. They stumbled, on throughthe brushwood, which grew more densely where the overhead leafage wasthin. The wind had dropped as suddenly as it had arisen. They heardnothing but the swish of their feet through the vegetation and thefitful calls of night birds just awaking. Presently, however, Hoolestopped and whispered:
'Did you hear that?'
'What?'
'Some sound--I don't know what.'
'I heard nothing.'
They went on.
'There again!' said Hoole, a few seconds later. He looked roundapprehensively. A slight groan came from Meek.
'What's the matter?' asked Trentham in a whisper, sharply. His nerveswere a little on edge.
'I seed a face, sir,' murmured the man, staring into the gloom.
'Nonsense! It's too dark to see anything. We 'll stop in a few minutes,when it's quite dark; but we must get as far as we can from where we sawthat native.'
They had not advanced more than a dozen yards when Hoole made a suddendash among the bushes. The rest halted, drawing quick breaths. He cameback after half a minute's absence.
'I distinctly heard a sound there,' he explained. 'No; it's notjumpiness. But I couldn't see any one or anything. I vote we stop,Trentham. We shall lose our bearings utterly if we go too far into theforest, where we can't see the sun to-morrow.'
'I think you 're right. Now to find trees we can climb, and big enoughto give us safe perches. Grinson, put down your bag and have a lookround.'
The boatswain had just risen from stooping to the ground; the otherswere standing by, looking up for broad forks which promised security,when with a sudden _whish_ that took them all aback the brushwood aroundthem parted and a score or more of dusky natives burst into the ring.Before they could raise a finger in self-defence they were thrownheadlong, and sinewy hands were knotting pliant tendrils about theirarms and legs, while others held them down. In a few minutes thebinding was finished. The captors collected, and jabbered away amongthemselves. One of them had opened the bag, and was munching a biscuit.The bag was wrenched from his hands; and the four prisoners, lying ontheir backs, watched the gleeful savages consume their whole stock ofprovisions to the last crumb.
A SCORE OF DUSKY NATIVES BURST INTO THE RING.]