clenched fists held somewhat in advance, his head bentforward, eyes staring, brows lowered, and lips parted.
Halcott was a brave man, and Tandy right well knew it. The sight of ascore of spear-armed savages could not have affected him thus; he mightbe face to face with a tiger or a python, yet feel no fear.
Thinking his friend was about to fall, Tandy sprang up and seized hisarm.
Halcott recovered almost at once, and a smile stole over his bold,handsome, sailor face.
But he spoke not. He could not just then. He only pointed over thebush towards the island, and Tandy looked in the same direction.
Slowly from out the plantain thicket tottered, rather than walked, thetall figure of a white man. His long hair flowed unkempt over hisshoulders; he was clothed in rags, and leaned upon a long, strong spear.
He stood there for a moment on a patch of greensward, and, shading hiseyes from the sunlight, gazed across the lake, and as if listening.
Then he knelt just there, with his right hand still clutching the spear,as if engaged in prayer.
And Tandy knew then without being told that the man kneeling yonder onthe patch of greensward was the long-lost James Malone himself. But noone moved, no one spoke, until at last the Crusoe staggered to his feet.This he did with difficulty, moving as one does who has aged before histime with illness or sorrow, or with both combined.
James had turned to go, when, with a happy cry, Halcott sprang out fromhis hiding-place, dragging with him the small canoe and her paddles.
"Ship ahoy! James! James!" he shouted, "your prayers are heard. I'mhere--your old shipmate, Halcott. You are saved!"
The captain sprang into the canoe as he spoke, and soon shoved her off.
They could see now, in a bright glint of sunshine, that James's hair waslong and had a silvery sheen. He gazed once more across, but shook hishead. It was evident he would not credit his senses. Then he turnedround and moved slowly and painfully back into the bush.
Tandy had not attempted to go with Halcott, though the canoe couldeasily have held two.
"That meeting," he said to himself, "will be a sacred one. I shall notdare to intrude."
It was quite a long time after he reached the island and disappeared inthe grove before anything more was seen of Halcott.
Tandy had thrown himself on the beach in a careless attitude, just as heused to lounge on summer days on the poop of the _Merry Maiden_ whileslowly moving along the canal, and smoking now as he used to smokethen--smoking and thinking.
But see, Halcott is coming at last. He is leading James by the hand andhelping him towards the boat, and in a few minutes' time both are overand standing on the bank of the lake.
"Tandy, this is James. But you know the strange story, and this is thestrangest part of all."
Tandy took the hand that was offered to him. How cold and thin it felt!
"God sent you here," said James slowly, and speaking apparently withsome difficulty. "_His_ name be praised. It was for this happy meetingI was kept living on and on, though I did not know it. It has been aweary, terrible time. It is ended now, I trust." Here a happy smilespread over his sadly-worn face, and once more he extended his hand toHalcott. "Heaven bless you, friend--nay, _brother_!"
"Yes, James, and we shall always be brothers now--always, always."
Book 3--CHAPTER FOUR.
PRISONER AMONG SAVAGES--SHIPWRECK.
Not a word about gold was spoken that night. To Halcott had beenrestored that which is better far than much fine gold--the friendship ofa true and honest heart.
For many days James Malone was far too weak to talk much, and he toldthem his story only by slow degrees as he reclined on the couch in the_Sea Flower's_ cabin, as often as not with little Nelda seated on acamp-stool beside him, her little hand in his. She had quite taken toJames, and the child's gentle voice and winning manners appeared tosoothe him.
His story was one of suffering, it is true, but of suffering noblyborne.
Hope had flown away at last, however. He found himself too ill to findhis own living. At the very time Halcott spied him, he had come forthexpecting to look his last at sun and sky, just to pray, and then creepback into the cooler gloom of his hut to die.
How he had been saved from the savages, in the first instance, is soontold. He had leaped, after he had seen every one safely over thebridge, into the deep pool with the intention of swimming down stream,hoping thus to avoid the natives, and, gaining the beach, make his wayalong the coast or across the promontory to join his friends on theother side.
He had got almost a mile on, and was feeling somewhat exhausted, whenthe river suddenly narrowed again, and before he could do anything tohelp himself, he was caught in the rapids and hurried along at a fearfulrate.
Sick and giddy, at last, and stunned by repeated blows received bycontact with stones or boulders, he suddenly lost consciousness.
"Darkness, dearie," he said, as if addressing Nelda only, "darkness cameover me all at once, and many and many a day after that I lived towonder why it had not been the darkness of death.
"When I recovered consciousness--when I got a little better, I mean,dearie--and opened my eyes, I found myself lying in a clearing of theforest, pained, and bruised, and bleeding.
"Pained I well might be, for feet and hands were tightly bound with aspecies of willow. But I was alone. I thanked God for that. I had noidea how long I had lain there, but it was night, and the stars thatbrightly shone above me were, for a time, my only companions. They gaveme hope--oh, not for this world, but for the next. I felt my time wouldsoon come, and that, baulked in their designs on the ladies, the savageswould torture and sacrifice me. In spite of my sores and sufferings,some influence seemed to steal down from those holy stars to calm me,and I fell fast asleep once more. It could not have been for long,though. I had a rude awakening. All around me, but some distance off,was a circle of dusky warriors, spear-armed. I could see their eyes andteeth gleaming white in the starlight, as they danced exultingly roundand round me, brandishing their weapons and uttering their wild yells,their savage battle-cries.
"But every now and then the circle would be suddenly narrowed, as adozen or more of the fiercest and most demon-like rushed upon me withlevelled spears, and it was then I thought my time had come. But thebitterness of death was past, and now, as if mad myself, I defied them,laughed at them, spat at them. My voice sounded far-off. I couldhardly believe it was my own.
"But, as if by magic, suddenly every warrior disappeared, and into theclearing stalked a savage taller than any I had yet seen. His spear waslike a weaver's beam, as says the Bible. With hair adorned withfeathers, with face, chest, and arms disfigured by tattooing--the scarsin many places hardly yet healed--with awful mouth, and gleaming,vindictive eyes, he looked indeed a fearsome figure.
"At each side of him marched three men carrying torches, and closebehind two savages bearing a litter, or rude hammock, of branches. Onto this I was roughly lifted, and borne away through the dark woods.
"But whither? I hardly dared guess at the answer to that question. Todeath, I felt certain--death by torture and the stake. The chief wouldyet, he doubtless believed, have `white blood' to drink, and that bloodshould be mine.
"It was to the small lake island, however, on which you found me, that Iwas carried, more dead than alive, and here I was to be kept a prisoneruntil the full of another moon.
"I need not tell you how I gradually ingratiated myself into favour,first with the medicine-man, and afterwards with the king himself, whomI taught much that was of use to him in the arts of peace, till he cameto consider me far more useful alive than dead. Nor am I willing tospeak before this dear child of the awful rites, the mummeries, andfearful human sacrifices that my eyes have witnessed. The wonder is,that instead of living on as I did--though life has been in reality buta living death--I did not become insane, and wander raving through thewoods and forests.
"But the savages have been driven fro
m the island at last, terrorised bythe demons of the burning mountain, and I do not think that they arelikely to return during the few weeks we shall be here.
"They fled in their canoes precipitately on the first signs of eruption.The boats were terribly overcrowded, and although they lightened themby throwing women and children overboard to the sharks, at least threegreat war-canoes were sunk before my eyes.
"It was a fearful sight! May no one here ever live to have suchexperiences as I have passed through."
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As soon as he could bear to listen to it, Halcott told James all his ownstory and that of the _Sea Flower_ since she left the shores of England.
"Like myself," said James, "you have been mercifully preserved.
"As to gold," he continued, "I am fully aware that the medicine-man hadmany utensils of the purest beaten gold. They were used for