CHAPTER IX

  A PROFESSOR OF WITCHCRAFT

  Quickly as Elsie had reached the deck, the warlike sounds whichdisturbed her rest had ceased. Save for the footsteps of men whom shecould not see, the prevalent noises were caused only by wind and sleet.While she was hurrying forward as rapidly as the darkness permitted,the lights were switched on with a suddenness that made her gasp. Thedog began to bark again, but it was easy to distinguish his sharp yelpsof excitement and defiance from the earlier notes of alarmed suspicion.In fact, Joey himself was the first to discover the stealthy approachof the Indians. Courtenay and Tollemache, who took the middle watch,from midnight to 4 A.M., had failed to note the presence of severalcanoes on the ink-black surface of the bay until the dog warned them bygrowling, and ruffling the bristles on his back. The night was pitchdark; the rising moon was not only hidden by the hills of the island,but frequent storms of rain and hail rendered it impossible while theyraged to see or hear beyond the distance of a few feet. In allprobability, as the canoes bore down from windward, Joey had scentedthem. He also gave the highly important information as to the quarterfrom which attack might be expected. Three men, at least, had gainedthe deck, but the prompt use of a revolver had caused them to retreatas silently and speedily as they had appeared. That was all. Therewas no actual fight. The phantoms vanished as silently as they came.The only external lights on the ship were the masthead and sidelights,hoisted by Courtenay to reveal the steamer's whereabouts in case one ofthe boats chanced to be driven into the bay during the dark hours.There was an electric lamp turned on in the donkey-engine room, andanother in the main saloon, but means were taken to exclude them fromshowing without; if the Indians meant to be actively hostile, lights onboard would be more helpful to the assailants than to the assailed.

  When the captain and Tollemache followed Joey's lead, they discernedthree demoniac figures, vaguely outlined by the ruddy glare of the portlight, in the very act of climbing the rails. They fired instantly,and the naked forms vanished; both men thought they heard the splashingcaused by the leaping or falling of the Indians into the sea. By thesame subdued radiance Courtenay made out the top of a pole or maststicking up close to the ship's side. He leaned over, fired a coupleof shots downwards at random, seized the pole, and lashed it to astanchion with a loose rope end, a remnant of one of the awnings. Asmall craft, even an Indian canoe, would be most useful, and itscapture might tend to scare the attackers.

  Telling Tollemache to mount guard, he raced back to the saloon hatchand summoned assistance. The others searched the ship in smalldetachments, but the Indians were gone; it was manifest that nonebeyond those driven off at the first onset had secured a footing ondeck. Then, taking the risk of being shot at, Courtenay ordered thelights to be turned on, and the first person he saw clearly was Elsie.He was almost genuinely angry with her.

  "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

  She was learning not to fear his brusque ways. He was no carpetknight, and men who carry their lives in their hands do not pick andchoose their words.

  "I thought you were in danger, so I came to help," she said calmly.

  "You must go back to your cabin at once."

  "Why? Of what avail is the safety of my cabin if you are killed?"

  A woman's logic is apt to be irritating when one expects a flight ofarrows, or, it may be, a gunshot, out of the blackness a few feet away.

  "For goodness' sake, stand here, then," he cried, seizing her arm, andcompelling her to shelter behind the heavy molding which carried thebridge.

  She did not object to his roughness. In the midst of actual peril,impressions are apt to be cameo-cut in their preciseness, and she likedhim all the more because he treated her quite roughly. Of course, themere presence of a woman at such a time was a hindrance. But she wasdetermined not to return to her stateroom, and, indeed, her obstinacywas reasonable enough, seeing the condition of affairs on board the_Kansas_.

  The captain quitted her for a moment in order to dispatch a Chileansailor for a lantern and a long cord. He wished to investigate thecaptured canoe.

  Christobal, who had made the round of the promenade deck, came up.

  "Oh, were you here, too?" he asked, on seeing the girl.

  "I _am_ here, if that is what you mean," she cried. "I heard Joeybarking, and the shots that followed. Naturally, I wished to find outwhat had happened."

  "Sorry. I imagined you were sleepless, like myself, and had joinedCourtenay during his watch. That explanation must have sufficed. Inany case, we have other things to trouble us at present."

  Elsie had never before heard the Spaniard speaking so offhandedly. Shegave small heed to his petulance; aroused from sound slumber by thealarm of an Indian attack--thrilled by the horror of the thought thatshe might fall into the clutches of the callous man-apes which infestthe islands of southwest America--she was in no mood to disentanglesubtleties of speech.

  "Do you think they have left us?" she murmured, shrinking nearer to theiron shield which Courtenay seemed to think would protect her.

  "Personally, I have seen no reason whatever for such a hubbub," was theflippant answer.

  It was evident that Dr. Christobal was annoyed. Notwithstanding hisconventional polish, he was not a man to conceal his feelings whendeeply stirred. Yet Elsie failed to catch his intent, other than thathe was adopting his usual nonchalant tone.

  "But something must have caused Captain Courtenay and Mr. Tollemache tofire their revolvers so frequently. And, if they were mistaken, thedog would not have shared their error. Besides, one of the canoes didnot get away. See! Its mast is fastened there."

  "Ah! I had forgotten Tollemache. He was selected to join thecaptain's watch, of course."

  "Yes, I was present when the watches were formed. Have you seen Mr.Tollemache? Is he safe?"

  "He is among those making the round of the ship. I hope you willforgive me."

  "Forgive you! What have you done that calls for forgiveness?"

  "There are errors of speech which equal those of conduct, Miss Maxwell."

  "Oh, what nonsense--at one in the morning--when we are threatened bysavages!"

  Christobal was relieved that she took this view of his abruptutterances. He thought the incident was ended. He was mistaken; Elsiewas able to recall each word subsequently. At the moment she wasrecording impressions with uncomprehending accuracy, but her mind wasquite incapable of analyzing them; that would come later.

  The lantern was brought. Courtenay stood on the lowermost rail, andcarefully paid out a rope to which the light was slung. He was far toobrave a man to take undue risks. He was ready to shoot instantly ifneed be, and, by his instructions, Tollemache and Walker kept watch asbest they could in case other canoes were lying close to the ship.

  Any doubt in this regard was dispelled in a singular manner. Theflickering rays of the lantern had barely revealed the primitive craftlying alongside when a voice came from the depths, crying in brokenSpanish:

  "Don't shoot, senors--spare me, for the love of heaven! I am a whiteman from Argentina."

  Christobal and Elsie alone understood the exact significance of thewords. Courtenay, of course, knew what language was being spoken, andit was easy to guess the nature of the appeal. But the lantern showedthat the canoe was empty. In the center lay the Fuegian fire, itsembers covered with a small hide. The pole, fastened to a cross-piecein the thwarts, was not a mast, but had evidently been shipped in orderto give speedy access to the deck by climbing.

  Then Courtenay caught sight of two hands clinging to the stern of thecanoe. He swung the lantern in that direction, and an extraordinary,and even an affrighting, object became visible. A caricature of ahuman head was raised slightly above the level of the water. It wascrowned by a shock of coarse, black, knotted hair, tied back from thebrows by a fillet of white feathers. An intensely black face, crossedby two bars of red and white pigment, reaching from ear to ear, andcovering eyelids, nose, and l
ips, was upturned to the watchers from thedeck. The colors were vivid enough, notwithstanding the sheets of rainwhich blew in gusts against the ship's side, dimming the dull light ofa storm-proof lamp, to convey a most uncanny effect; nor did Courtenayremove either his eyes or the revolver while he said to Christobal:

  "Ask him who he is, and what he wants."

  The answer was intelligible enough.

  "I am a miner from Argentina. I have been among these Indians fiveyears. When their attack failed, I thought there was a chance ofescape. For pity's sake, senor, help me instantly, or I shall die fromthe cold."

  "Have the Indians gone?" asked Christobal.

  "Yes. They thought to surprise you. When they come again it will beby daylight, as they are afraid of the dark. But be quick, I imploreyou. My hands are numb."

  There was no resisting the man's appeal. A rope ladder was lowered,and a Chilean sailor went down in obedience to the captain's order,though he disliked the job, and crossed himself before descending. Hepassed a rope under the fugitive's armpits, and, with aid from thedeck, hoisted him aboard. The unfortunate miner gave proof of hiswretched state by promptly collapsing in a faint, with a sigh of "Madrede Dios!"

  His only garments were a species of waistcoat and rough trousers ofuntanned guanaco hide. The white skin of his breast and legs, thoughdarkened by exposure, showed that he had told the truth as to hisdescent, notwithstanding the amazing daubs on his face. His hair,stiffened with black grease, stood out all around his head, and thesame oily composition had been used to blacken his forehead, neck, andhands.

  Some brandy and hot water, combined with the warmth of the saloon, soonrevived him. He ate a quantity of bread with the eagerness of a mansuffering from starvation; but he could not endure the heatedatmosphere, although the temperature was barely sufficient to guard theinjured occupants from the outer cold. When offered an overcoat, herefused it at first, saying:

  "I do not need so much clothing. It will make me ill. I only feltcold in the water because it is mostly melted ice."

  He was so grateful to his rescuers, however, that he took the garmentto oblige them when he saw they were incredulous. Christobal broughthim to the chart-house, where most of the others were assembled, andthere questioned him.

  It was a most astonishing story which Francisco Suarez, gold-miner andprospector, laid before an exceedingly attentive audience. As the manspoke, so did he recover the freer usage of a civilized tongue. Atfirst his words had a hoarse, guttural sound, but Dr. Christobal'squestions seemed to awaken dormant memories, and every one noticed, notleast those who had small knowledge of Spanish, that he had practicallyrecovered command of the language at the end of half an hour.

  And this was what he told them. He, with three partners and a fewIndians from the Pampas, had set out on a gold-prospecting expeditionon the head waters of the Gallegos River. They were disappointed intheir search until they crossed the Cordillera, and sighted the gloomyshores of Last Hope Inlet, leading into Smyth Channel. They therefound alluvial sand and gold-bearing quartz, yielding but poor results.Unfortunately, some natives assured them that the metal they soughtabounded in Hanover Island. They obtained canoes, voyaged down thelong inlet, crossed the straits, and struck inland towards the unknownmountains beyond the swamps of Ellen Bay.

  After enduring all the hardships entailed by life in such a wildcountry, they blundered into a gully where a brief analysis of thedetritus gave a result per ton which was not to be measured by ouncesbut by pounds.

  "Virgin! What a place that was!" exclaimed Suarez, his dark eyessparkling even yet with the recollection of it. "In one day we securedmore gold than we could carry. We threw away food to make room for it,and then threw away gold to secure the food again. We called it theGolden Valley. When weary of digging, we would spin coins to see whodrew corner lots in the town we had mapped out on a level piece ofland."

  White men and Indians alike caught the fever. They accumulated auseless hoard, having no means of transport other than their own backs,and then, all precautions being relaxed, the nomad Indians, whom theydespised, rushed the camp when they were sleeping. They were nearlyall killed by stones shot from slings. Suarez was only stunned, and heand a Spaniard, with two Indians, were reserved for future slaughter.

  "The others were eaten," he said, "and their bones were used for makingfires. I saw my friend, Giacomo, felled like a bullock, and theIndians as well. By chance, I was the last. I had no hope of escape.I was too downcast even to make a fight of it, when, at the eleventhhour, the mad idea seized me that I might please and astonish mycaptors by performing a few sleight-of-hand tricks. I began bythrowing stones in the air, pretending to swallow them and causing themto disappear otherwise, but finding them again in the heel of my bootor hidden beneath any object which happened to be near. When theIndians saw what I was doing, they gathered in a circle. I ate somefire, and took a small toad out of a woman's ear. Dios! How theygaped. They had never seen the like. All the tribe was summoned towatch me."

  Then the poor fellow began to cry.

  "Holy Mother! Think of me playing the fool before those brutes! Ibecame their medicine man. I fought and killed my only rival, and,since then, I have doctored a few of the chief men among them, so theytook me into the tribe, and always managed to procure me such food as Icould eat. They gave me roots and dried meat when they themselves wereliving on putrid blubber, or worse, because they kill all the old womenas soon as famine threatens. The women are devoured long before thedogs; dogs catch otters, but old women cannot. In winter, when a longstorm renders it impossible to obtain shell-fish, any woman who isfeeble will steal off and hide in the mountains. But the men track herand bring her back. They hold her over the smoke of a fire until sheis choked. Ah! God in heaven! I have seen such sights during thosefive years!"

  Elsie, of course, understood all of this. When Christobal put it intoliteral English, Courtenay looked at her. She smiled at his unspokenthought.

  "I am already aware of most of what he is telling us," she said. "Itis very dreadful that such people should exist, but one does not fallin a faint merely because they cumber the earth. Perhaps you will notsend me away next time, if they try to board the ship again. I can usea revolver quite well enough to count as one for the defense."

  "You are henceforth enrolled as maid-at-arms, Miss Maxwell," said thecaptain, lightly. He was by no means surprised at the coolness shedisplayed in the face of the new terror. She had given so many proofsof her natural courage that it must be equal to even so affrighting atest as the near presence of the Alaculof Indians. But he broke in onthe Spaniard's recital with a question of direct interest.

  "Ask him, Christobal, why he said those devils would come again bydaylight."

  "Because they have guns, and can use them," was the appalling answergiven by Suarez. "They secured the rifles belonging to my party, andone of them, who had often seen ship's officers shooting wild geese,understood the method of loading and aiming. They will not waste thecartridges on game, but keep them for tribal warfare, and they think agun cannot shoot in the dark. To-night they only attempted a surprise,and made off the moment they were discovered. To-morrow, or next day,they will swarm round the ship in hundreds, and fire at us with rifles,bows, and slings. They do most harm with the slings and arrows, asthey hold the gun away from the shoulder, but they can cast a heavypebble from a sling quite as far and almost as straight as a revolvercan shoot."

  "How do they know the ship will not sail at once?" demanded Courtenay.

  Suarez laughed hysterically, with the mirth which is akin to tears,when the query was explained to him. He looked bizarre enough underordinary conditions, but laughter converted him into a fair semblanceof one of those blood-curdling demons which a Japanese artist loves todepict. Evidently, he depended on make-up to supplement his powers asa conjurer.

  "It is as much as a canoe can manage in fine weather to reach theisland out there, which they call Se
al Island," he cried, pointingtowards the locality of White Horse Island. "Even the Indians wereastonished to see so big a ship anchored here safely. They havewatched plenty of wrecks outside, and hardly anything comes ashore. Atany rate, they are quite sure you cannot go back."

  It would be idle to deny that the Spaniard's words sent a chill ofapprehension down the spine of some of those present; but the captainsaid quietly:

  "Where a ship is concerned, if she can enter on the flood she can goout on the ebb. How came you to escape to-night?"

  Tears stood again in Suarez's eyes as he replied:

  "When I heard their plan, I imagined they would be driven off, provideda watch were kept. I resolved to risk all in the attempt to reach thecompany of civilized men once more. I do not care what the outcome maybe. If I can help you to overcome them I am ready to do so; if not, Iwill die by your side. To-night I followed in a canoe unseen. When Iheard the shooting, I leaped overboard and swam to the ship. It waslucky for me some one seized the canoe which I found there. The men inher had to swim to other canoes, and two were wounded, I heard themsay; this caused some confusion, and I had something to grasp when Ireached the ship; otherwise I must have been drowned, as the water wasvery cold."

  "Yet you refused an overcoat a little while ago," interjectedChristobal.

  "Ah, yes. For many years I have lived altogether in Indian fashion.My skin is hard. Wind or rain cannot harm me. But melted ice mixedwith salt water drives even the seals out to sea."

  "Can you speak the Alaculof language?"

  "Is that what you call them? Their own name for the tribe is 'TheFeathered People,' because all their chief men and heads of familieswear these things," and he touched his head-dress. "Yes, I know nearlyall their words. They don't use a great many. One word may haveseveral meanings, according to the pitch of the voice."

  "They captured you on the Smyth Channel side of the island. Have theydeserted it? Why are they on this side now?" asked Courtenay.

  "I believe they brought me here at first because they wished to keep meon account of my magic, and they knew I would endeavor to escape to apassing ship. We came over the mountains by a terrible road. I havebeen told that landslips and avalanches have closed the pass eversince. I do not know whether that is true or not, but if I had triedto get away in that direction they would have caught me in a few hours.No man can elude them. They can see twice as far as any European, andthey are wonderful trackers."

  Suddenly his voice failed him. Though the words came fluently, hislong-disused vocal chords were unequal to the strain of measuredspeech. He asked hoarsely for some hot water. When Courtenay nextcame across him in the saloon he was asleep, and changed so greatly bythe removal of pigments from his face that it was difficult to regardhim as the same being.

  His story was unquestionably true. Tollemache, who had fought anoffshoot tribe of these same Indians, Christobal, who vouched for theArgentine accent, and Elsie, who seemed to have read such rare books oftravel as dealt with that little known part of the world, bore out thereasonableness of his statements. The only individual on board whoregarded him with suspicion was Joey, and even Joey was satisfied whenSuarez had washed himself.

  It was daylight again, a dawn of dense mist, without wind or hail, ereany member of the ship's company thought of sleep. Then Elsie went toher cabin and dreamed of a river of molten gold, down which she wascompelled to sail in a cockle-shell boat, while fantastic monsters swamround, and eyed her suspiciously.

  When, at last, she awoke after a few hours of less exciting slumber,she came out on deck to find the sun shining on a fairy-land of greenand blue and diamond white, with gaunt gray rocks and groves of copperbeeches to frame the picture. There was no pillar of smoke on thelower hills to bear silent testimony to the presence of the Indians;but the canoe lying alongside told her that the previous night's eventswere no part of her dreams, and a man whom she did not recognize--a manwith closely cropped gray hair and a deeply lined, weather-tanned face,from which a pair of sunken, flashing eyes looked kindly at her--saidin Spanish:

  "Good morning, senorita. I hope I did not startle you when I cameaboard. And I said things I should not have said in the presence of alady. But believe me, senorita, I was drunk with delight."