Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood Trader
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
A WILD CHASE--HOPE, DISAPPOINTMENT, AND DESPAIR--THE SANDAL-WOOD TRADEROUTWITS THE MAN-OF-WAR.
When the wild-pig, referred to in the last chapter, was first observed,it was standing on the margin of a thicket, from which it had justissued, gazing, with the profoundly philosophical aspect peculiar tothat animal, at our four friends, and seeming to entertain doubts as tothe propriety of beating an immediate retreat.
Before it had made up its mind on this point, Corrie's eye alighted onit.
"Hist!" exclaimed he, with a gesture of caution to his companions."Look there! we've had nothing to eat for an awful time; nothing sincebreakfast on Sunday morning. I feel as if my interior had beenamputated. Oh! what a jolly roast that fellow would make if we couldonly kill him."
"Wot's in the pistol?" inquired Bumpus, pointing to the weapon whichCorrie had stuck ostentatiously into his belt.
"Nothin'," answered the boy. "I fired the last charge I had into theface of a savage."
"Fling it at him," suggested Bumpus, getting cautiously up. "Here, handit to me. I've seed a heavy horse-pistol like that do great executionwhen well aimed by a stout arm."
The pig seemed to have an intuitive perception that danger wasapproaching, for it turned abruptly round just as the missile left theseaman's hand, and received the butt with full force close to the rootof its tail.
A pig's tendency to shriek on the receipt of the slightest injury iswell known. It is therefore not to be wondered at, that this pig wentoff into the bushes under cover of a series of yells so terrific thatthey might have been heard for miles round.
"I'll after him," cried Bumpus, catching up a large stone, and leapingforward a few paces almost as actively as if nothing had happened tohim.
"Hurrah!" shouted Corrie, "I'll go too."
"Hold on," cried Bumpus, stopping suddenly.
"Why?" inquired the boy.
"'Cause you must stop an' take care of the gals. It won't do to leave'em alone again, you know, Corrie."
This remark was accompanied with an exceedingly huge wink full of deepmeaning, which Corrie found it convenient not to notice, as he observed,gravely--
"Ah! true. One of us _must_ remain with 'em, poor helpless things--so--so _you_ had better go after the squeaker."
"All right," said Bumpus, with a broad grin--"Hallo! why, here's a spearthat must ha' bin dropt by one o' them savages. That's a piece o' goodluck anyhow, as the man said when he fund the fi' pun' note. Now, then,keep an eye on them gals, lad, and I'll be back as soon as ever I can;though I does feel rather stiffish. My old timbers ain't used to suchdeep divin', d'ye see."
Bumpus entered the thicket as he spoke, and Corrie returned to consolethe girls, with the feeling and the air of a man whose bosom is filledwith a stern resolve to die, if need be, in the discharge of animportant duty.
Now, the yell of this particular pig reached other ears besides those ofthe party whose doings we have attempted to describe. It rang in thoseof the pirates, who had been sent ashore to hide, like the scream of asteam-whistle, in consequence of their being close at hand, and itsounded like a faint cry in those of Henry Stuart and the missionary,who, with their party, were a long way off, slowly tracing the footstepsof the lost Alice, to which they had been guided by the keen scent ofthat animated scrap of door-mat, Toozle. The effect on both parties waspowerful, but not similar. The pirates, supposing that a band ofsavages were near them, lay close and did not venture forth until aprolonged silence and strong curiosity tempted them to creep, with slowmovements and extreme caution, towards the place whence the sounds hadproceeded.
Mr Mason and Henry, on the other hand, stopped and listened withintense earnestness, expecting, yet fearing, a recurrence of the cry,and then sprang forward with their party, under the belief that they hadheard the voice of Alice calling for help.
Meanwhile, Bumpus toiled up the slopes of the mountain, keeping the pigwell in view, for that animal having been somewhat injured by the blowfrom the pistol, could not travel at its ordinary speed. Indeed, Jowould have speedily overtaken it, but for the shaky condition of his ownbody after such a long fast and such a series of violent shocks, as wellmental as physical.
Having gained the summit of a hill, the pig, much exhausted, sat down onits hams, and gazed pensively at the ground. Bumpus took advantage ofthe fact, and also sat down on a stone to rest.
"Wot a brute it is," said he to himself, "I'll circumvent it yet,though."
Presently, he rose and made as if he had abandoned the chase, and wereabout to return the way he had come; but, when he had effectuallyconcealed himself from the view of the pig, he made a wide detour, and,coming out suddenly at a spot higher up the mountain, charged down uponthe unsuspecting animal with a yell that would have done credit toitself.
The pig echoed the yell, and rushed down the hill towards the cliffs,closely followed by the hardy seaman, who, in the ardour of the chase,forgot or ignored his aches and pains, and ran like a greyhound, hishair streaming in the wind, his eyes blazing with excitement, and thespear ready poised for a fatal dart. Altogether, he was so wild andstrong in appearance, and so furious in his onset, that it wasimpossible to believe he had been half dead little more than an hourbefore, but then, as we have before remarked, Bumpus was hard to kill!
For nearly half an hour did the hungry seaman keep up the chase--neithergaining nor losing distance, while the affrighted pig, having itsattention fixed entirely on its pursuer, scrambled and plunged forwardover every imaginable variety of ground, receiving one or two severefalls in consequence. Bumpus, being warned by its fate, escaped them.At last the two dashed into a gorge and out at the other end, scrambledthrough a thicket, plunged down a hill, and doubled a high rock, on theother side of which they were met in the teeth by Henry Stuart at thehead of his band.
The pig attempted to double. Failing to do so, it lost its footing andfell flat on its side. Jo Bumpus threw his spear with violent energydeep into the earth about two feet beyond it, tripped on a stump andfell headlong on the top of the pig, squeezing the life out of its bodywith the weight of his ponderous frame, and receiving its dying yellinto his very bosom.
"Hilloa! my stalwart chip of old Neptune," cried Henry, laughing,"you've bagged him this time effectually. Hast seen any of the niggers,or did you mistake this poor pig for one?"
"Ay, truly, I have seen them, and given a few of 'em marks that willkeep 'em in remembrance of me. As for this pig," said Jo, throwing thecarcase over his shoulder, "I want a bit of summat to eat--that's thefact; an' the poor children will be--"
"Children," cried Mr Mason, eagerly, "what do you mean, my man; haveyou seen any?"
"In course I has, or I wouldn't speak of 'em," returned Jo, who did notat first recognise the missionary, and no wonder, for Mr Mason'sclothes were torn and soiled, and his face was bruised, bloodstained,and haggard.
"Tell me, friend, I entreat you," said the pastor earnestly, laying hishand on Jo's arm, "have you seen my child?"
"Wot! are you the father o' the little gal? Why, I've seed her onlyhalf an hour since. But hold on, lads, come arter me an I'll steer youto where she is at this moment."
"Thanks be to God," said Mr Mason, with a deep sigh of relief. "Leadon, my man, and, pray, go quickly."
Bumpus at once led the way to the foot of the cliffs, and went over theground at a pace that satisfied even the impatience of the bereavedfather.
While this was occurring on the mountain slopes, the pirates at the footof the cliffs had discovered the three children, and, finding that noone else was near, had seized them and carried them off to a cave nearto which their boat lay on the rocks. They hoped to have obtained someinformation from them as to what was going on at the other side of theisland, but, while engaged in a fruitless attempt to screw something outof Corrie, who was peculiarly refractory, they were interrupted, firstby the yells of Bumpus and his pig, and afterwards by the suddenappearance of Henry and his party on the ed
ge of a cliff a short wayabove the spot where they were assembled. On seeing these, the piratesstarted to their feet and drew their cutlasses, while Henry uttered ashout and ran down the rocks like a deer.
"Shall we have a stand-up fight with 'em, Bill?" said one of thepirates.
"Not if I can help it--there's four to one," replied the other.
"To the boat," cried several of the men, leading the way, "and let'stake the brats with us."
As Henry's party came pouring down the hill, the more combativelydisposed of the pirates saw at a glance that it would be in vain toattempt a stand, they therefore discharged a scattering volley fromtheir pistols, (happily without effect,) and, springing into their boat,pushed off from the shore, taking the children along with them.
Mr Mason was the first to gain the beach. He had hit upon a shorterpath by which to descend, and rushing forward, plunged into the sea.Poor little Alice, who at once recognised her father, stretched out herarms towards him, and would certainly have leaped into the sea had shenot been forcibly detained by one of the pirates, whose special duty itwas to hold her with one hand, while he restrained the violentdemonstrations of Corrie with the other.
The father was too late, however. Already the boat was several yardsfrom the shore, and the frantic efforts he made in the madness of hisdespair to overtake it, only served to exhaust him. When Henry Stuartreached the beach, it was with difficulty he prevented those members ofhis band who carried muskets from firing on the boat. None of themthought for a moment, of course, of making the mad attempt to swimtowards her. Indeed, Mr Mason himself would have hesitated to do sohad he been capable of cool thought at the time; but the sudden rush ofhope when he heard of his child being near, combined with the agony ofdisappointment on seeing her torn, as it were, out of his very grasp,was too much for him. His reasoning powers were completely overturned;he continued to buffet the waves with wild energy, and to strain everyfibre of his being in the effort to propel himself through the water,long after the boat was hopelessly beyond reach.
Henry understood his feelings well, and knew that the poor missionarywould not cease his efforts until exhaustion should compel him to do so,in which case his being drowned would be a certainty, for there wasneither boat nor canoe at hand in which to push off to his rescue.
In these circumstances the youth took the only course that seemed leftto him. He threw off his clothes and prepared to swim after his friend,in order to render the assistance of his stout arm when it should beneeded.
"Here, Jakolu!" he cried to one of the natives who stood near him.
"Yes, mass'r," answered the sturdy young fellow, who has been introducedat an earlier part of this story as being one of the missionary's bestbehaved and most active church members.
"I mean to swim after him, so I leave the charge of the party to MrBumpus there. You will act under his orders. Keep the men, together,and guard against surprise. We don't know how many more of theseblackguards may be lurking among the rocks."
To this speech Jakolu replied by shaking his head slowly and gravely, asif he doubted the propriety of his young commander's intentions.
"You no can swim queek nuff to save him," said he.
"That remains to be seen," retorted Henry, sharply, for the youth wasone of the best swimmers on the island--at least the best among thewhites, and better than many of the natives, although some of the lattercould beat him. "At any rate," he continued, "you would not have mestand idly by while my friend is drowning, would you?"
"Him's not drownin' yet," answered the matter-of-fact native. "Me 'viseyou to let Jakolu go. Him's can sweem berer dan you. See, here am bitplank, too,--me take dat."
"Ha! that's well thought of," cried Henry, who was now ready to plunge,"fetch it me, quick--and mind, Jakolu, keep your eye on me; when I holdup both hands you'll know that I'm dead beat, and that you must come offand help us both."
So saying, he seized the small piece of drift-wood which the nativebrought to him, and, plunging into the sea, struck out vigorously in thedirection in which the pastor was still perseveringly, though slowly,swimming.
While Henry was stripping, his eye had quickly and intelligently takenin the facts that were presented to him on the bay. He had seen, ondescending the hill, that the man-of-war had entered the bay andanchored there, a fact which surprised him greatly, and that the _Foam_still lay where he had seen her cast anchor on the morning of herarrival. This surprised him even more--for, if the latter was really apirate schooner, (as had been hinted more than once that day by variousmembers of the settlement,) why did she remain so fearlessly andpeacefully within range of the guns of so dangerous and powerful anenemy? He also observed that one of the large boats of the _Talisman_was in the water alongside and full of armed men, as if about to put offon some warlike expedition, while his pocket telescope enabled him toperceive that Gascoyne, (who must needs be the pirate captain, if thesuspicions of his friends were correct,) was smoking quietly on thequarterdeck, apparently holding amicable converse with the Britishcommander. The youth knew not what to think, for it was preposterous tosuppose that a pirate captain could by any possibility be the intimatefriend of his own mother.
These and many other conflicting thoughts kept rushing through his mindas he hastened forward, but the conclusions to which they led him--if,indeed, they led him to any--were altogether upset by the unaccountableand extremely piratical conduct of the seamen who carried off Alice andher companions, and whom he knew to be part of the crew of the _Foam_,both from their costume, and from the direction in which they rowedtheir little boat.
The young man's perplexities were, however, neutralised for the time byhis anxiety for his friend the pastor, and by the necessity of instantand vigorous effort for his rescue. He had just time, before plunginginto the sea, to note with satisfaction that the man-of-war's boat hadpushed off; and that if Alice really was in the hands of pirates, therewas the certainty of her being speedily rescued.
In this latter supposition, however, Henry was mistaken.
The events on shore which we have just described, had been witnessed, ofcourse, by the crews of both vessels, with, as may be easilyconjectured, very different feelings.
In the _Foam_, the few men who were lounging about the deck lookeduneasily from the war vessel to the countenance of Manton, in whosehands they felt that their fate now lay. The object of their regardpaced the deck slowly, with his hands in his pockets and a pipe in hismouth, in the most listless manner, in order to deceive the numerouseyes which he knew full well scanned his movements with deep curiosity.The frowning brow and the tightly compressed lips alone indicated thestorm of anger which was in reality raging in the pirate's breast atwhat he deemed the obstinacy of his captain in running into such danger,and the folly of his men in having shewn fight on shore when there wasno occasion for doing so. But Manton was too much alive to his owndanger and interests to allow passion at such a critical moment tointerfere with his judgment. He paced the deck slowly, as we have said,undecided as to what course he ought to pursue, but ready to act withthe utmost energy and promptitude when the time for action shouldarrive.
On board the _Talisman_, on the other hand, the young commander began tofeel certain of his prize; and when he witnessed the scuffle on shore,the flight of the boat's crew with the three young people and thesubsequent events, he could not conceal a smile of triumph as he turnedto Gascoyne and said--
"Your men are strangely violent in their proceedings, sir, for the crewof a peaceable trader. If it were not that they are pulling straightfor your schooner, where, no doubt, they will be received with openarms, I would have fancied they had been part of the crew of thatwonderful pirate, who seems to be able to change _colour_ almost asquickly as he changes _position_."
The allusion had no effect whatever on the imperturbable Gascoyne, onwhose countenance good humour seemed to have been immovably enthroned,for the worse his case became the more amiable and satisfied was hisaspect.
"
Surely Captain Montague does not hold me responsible for the doings ofmy men in my absence," said he, calmly. "I have already said that theyare a wild set--not easily restrained even when I am present; and fondof getting into scrapes when they can. You see, we have not a choice ofmen in these out-of-the-way parts of the world."
"Apparently not," returned Montague, "but I hope to have the pleasure ofseeing you order your men to be punished for their misdeeds; for, ifnot, I shall be under the necessity of punishing them for you. Is theboat ready, Mr Mulroy?"
"It is, sir."
"Then, Mr Gascoyne, if you will do me the favour to step into thisboat, I will have much pleasure in accompanying you on board yourschooner."
"By all means," replied Gascoyne, with a bland smile, as he rose andthrew away the end of another cigar, after having lighted therewith thesixth or seventh in which he had indulged that day. "Your boat is wellmanned and your men are well armed, Captain Montague; do you go on somecutting-out expedition, or are you so much alarmed at the terribleaspect of the broadside of my small craft that--"
Gascoyne here smiled with ineffable urbanity, and bowed slightly by wayof finishing his sentence. Montague was saved the annoyance of havingto reply, by a sudden exclamation from his lieutenant, who was observingthe schooner's boat though his telescope.
"There seems to be some one swimming after that boat," said he. "Aman--evidently a European, for he is light-coloured. He must have beensome time in the water, for he is already a long way from shore, andseems much exhausted."
"Why, the man is drowning, I believe," cried Montague, quickly, as helooked through the glass.
At that moment Frederick Mason's strength had given way; he made one ortwo manful efforts to struggle after the retreating boat, and then,tossing his arms in the air, uttered a loud cry of agony.
"Ho! shove off and save him," shouted Montague, the moment he heard it."Look alive, lads, give way! and when you have picked up the man, pullstraight for yonder schooner."
The oars at once fell into the water with a splash, and the boat, largeand heavy though it was, shot from the ship's side like an arrow.
"Lower the gig," cried the captain. "And now, Mr Gascoyne, since youseem disposed to go in a lighter boat, I will accommodate you. Prayfollow me."
In a few seconds they were seated in the little gig which seemed to flyover the sea under the vigorous strokes of her crew of eight stout men.So swift were her motions, that she reached the side of the schooneronly a few minutes later than the _Foam's_ boat, and a considerable timebefore his own large boat had picked up Mr Mason, who was found in analmost insensible condition, supported by Henry Stuart.
When the gig came within a short distance of the _Foam_, Gascoynedirected Montague's attention to the proceedings of the large boat, andat the same instant made a private signal with his right hand to Manton,who, still unmoved and inactive, stood at the schooner's bow awaitingand evidently expecting it.
"Ha!" said he aloud, "I thought as much. Now lads, shew the red--makeready to slip--off with Long Tom's nightcap--let out the skulkers--takethese children down below, and a dozen of you stand by to receive thecaptain and his _friends_."
These somewhat peculiar orders, hurriedly given, were hastily obeyed,and in a few seconds more the gig of the _Talisman_ ranged up alongsideof the _Foam_.