The Adventures of Don Lavington Part 39

"Yes; but's it's so dull here."

"Well, I dunno 'bout that," said Jem, looking lazily round at the glorious prospect of glistening sea, island and sh.o.r.e, backed up by mountains; "I call it just lovely."

"Oh, it's lovely enough, Jem; but I want to go ash.o.r.e."

"Now if you call my cottage dull inside the yard gates at Bristol, I'm with you, Mas' Don; but after all there's no place like home."

There was a dead silence, during which Don sat gazing at a group of the savages half-a-mile away, as they landed from a long canoe, and ran it up the beach in front of one of the native _whares_ or dwellings.

"Why, Jem!" Don exclaimed suddenly, "why not now?"

"Eh?" said Jem, starting from watching a large bird dive down with a splash in the silvery water, and then rise again with a fish in its beak; "see that, Mas' Don?"

"Yes, yes," exclaimed Don impatiently; "why not now?"

"Why not now, Mas' Don?" said Jem, scratching his head; "is that what you call a connundydrum?"

"Don't be stupid, man. I say, why not now?"

"Yes, I heared you say so twice; but what does it mean?"

"We're quite alone; we have a boat and arms, with food and water. Why not escape now?"

"Escape, Mas' Don? What, run away now at once--desert?"

"It is not running away, Jem; it is not deserting. They have robbed us of our liberty, and we should only be taking it back."

"Ah, they'd preach quite a different sarmon to that," said Jem, shaking his head.

"Why, you are never going to turn tail?"

"Not I, Mas' Don, when the time comes; but it don't seem to have come yet."

"Why, the opportunity is splendid, man."

"No, Mas' Don, I don't think so. If we take the boat, 'fore we've gone far they'll ketch sight of us aboard, and send another one to fetch us back, or else make a c.o.c.k-shy of us with the long gun."

"Then let's leave the boat."

"And go ash.o.r.e, and meet our messmates and the captain."

"Go in another direction."

"Out of the frying-pan into the fire," said Jem, grinning. "Say, Mas'

Don, how do they cook their food?"

"Don't talk nonsense, Jem; that's only a traveller's tale. I believe the people here will behave kindly to us."

"Till we got fat," said Jem, chuckling; "and then they'd have a tuck out. No, thank ye, Mas' Don; my Sally wouldn't like it. You see, I'm nice and plump and round now, and they'd soon use me. You're a great long growing boy, thin as a lath, and it'd take years to make you fit to kill, so as it don't matter for you."

"There is a chance open to us now for escape," said Don bitterly; "to get right away, and journey to some port, where we could get a pa.s.sage to England as sailors, and you treat it with ridicule."

"Not I, Mas' Don, lad."

"You do, Jem. Such a chance may never occur again; and I shall never be happy till I have told my mother what is the real truth about our going away."

"But you did write it to her, Mas' Don."

"Write! What is writing to speaking? I thought you meant to stand by me."

"So I do, Mas' Don, when a good chance comes. It hasn't come yet."

"Ahoy!"

A hail came out of the dense growth some fifty yards away.

"There," said Jem, "you see we couldn't get off; some one coming back."

"Ahoy!" came again; "boat ahoy!"

"Ahoy! Ahoy!" shouted back Jem, and the two boat-keepers watched the moving ferns in front of them, expecting to see the straw hat of a messmate directly; but instead there appeared the black white-tipped feathers, and then the hideously tattooed bluish face of a savage, followed directly after by another, and two stalwart men came out on to the sands, and began to walk slowly down toward the boat.

"c.o.c.k your pistol, Mas' Don," whispered Jem, "quiet-like; don't let 'em see. They've got their spears and choppers. Precious ready too with their _ahoys_."

"Why, it's that tattooed Englishman, Jem, and that savage who called me his pakeha."

"And like his impudence!" said Jem. "You're right though, so it is."

"Morning, mate," said the Englishman, who, save that he was a little lighter in colour than his hideous-looking companion, could hardly be distinguished from him.

"Morning, my hearty," said Jem. "What is it? Want a pa.s.sage home?"

"Do I want what?" growled the man. "Not I; too well off here."

"Wouldn't be safe to go back, p'r'aps," said Jem meaningly.

The man darted a fierce look at him, which told that the shaft had hit its mark.

"Never you mind about that," he said surlily.

"But you are a lifer, and have run away, haven't you?" continued Jem, in a bantering tone.

The man's aspect was for the moment so fierce that Don involuntarily stole his hand towards the pistol at his side. But his countenance softened directly after.

"That's neither here nor there, mate," said the man. "There's been chaps sent out abroad who were innocent, and others who have been punished more than they deserved; and you aren't the sort of fellow to go talking like that, and making trouble for a fellow who never did you any harm."

"Not I," said Jem; "it's no business of mine."

"And he isn't the fellow to make trouble," put in Don.