Mother Carey's Chicken Part 23

"You can't get through here without an axe to cut your way," said Mark at the end of five minutes, as he stood perspiring and panting, gazing half angrily at the dense thicket.

"Thank you for the information, my lad," said the major smiling; "we knew that before."

"But the island can't be all like this?" said Gregory.

"Oh, yes, it can, my dear sir," said the major. "Islands can be anything out here in the tropics, especially near the Ayquator. Now look here: if we want to get inland--as we do, we must find the mouth of the first river and follow the sides of the stream."

"Sure, sor," said Billy Widgeon, "we pa.s.sed that same about a hundred yards back, and the bosun and I knelt down and had a dhrink."

The major turned upon little Billy, who had spoken with a broad Irish accent, and stared at him, sticking his gla.s.s in one eye so as to have a better look.

"Look here, sir," he said; "you're not an Irishman, and that's a bad imitation of the brogue. Do you hear? You are not an Irishman, I say?"

"Sorra a bit, sor."

"Then is it making fun of me you are?" cried the major, suddenly growing broad in turn.

"No, sir, not I," said Billy, looking as serious as a judge and scratching his head the while.

"Then why did you talk like that?"

"I dunno, sor."

"You don't know, you scoundrel?"

"No, sir. I once lived in Ireland for a whole year, and we used to talk like that; and I suppose it was hearing you say Ayquator, sir, turned on the tap."

Gregory turned away so as to ask the second-mate a question just then, and they both looked very red in the face as the major coughed, blew out his cheeks, and ended by clearing his throat and speaking as a drill-sergeant does.

"You'd better be careful, sir. Now, gentlemen," he added, "suppose we go on."

"I say, bosun," said Billy, rubbing one ear until it was quite red, "what have I been a-doing of?"

"Getting your tongue in a knot, my lad. Come on."

He led the way and Billy Widgeon followed, talking to himself and evidently thoroughly puzzled as to the meaning of the major's attack.

But now the attention of all was attracted by the little trickling stream which made its way from beneath some low growth, and lost itself directly in the sand; but though the way was blocked up it was evident that here was a road into the island, for the dense wall of verdure took somewhat the form of an arch; and as soon as a way had been forced through, Bruff dashed on ahead, splas.h.i.+ng about and barking excitedly.

"That's not the way to get sport, is it?" said Morgan. "Hadn't we better call the dog back?"

"Yes, call him," said the major.

Mark called, but the dog had evidently gone beyond hearing, so they followed, finding themselves in an opening about sixty feet wide as soon as they had pa.s.sed the arch, and with the sky above them, while they were walking in the gravelly zigzagging and winding bed of a little river, with a wall of mighty trees to right and left.

It was evident that at times there was a tremendous current here, and that the whole place was flooded after the heavy rains, for the first-mate pointed out, some five feet from the ground, a patch of dry gra.s.s and broken twigs, matted together just as they had been washed down the river and left there from the last flood, while now the stream was reduced to a trickling rivulet, with a pool here and a pool there, some of which were deep and, from the swirling motion of the water, evidently contained big fish.

There was plenty of room for walking at the sides of the gravelly stream, and after progressing some little distance inland, at the bottom of what was like a channel, whose walls were huge tree-trunks towering to a great height, the party began to look out for birds.

"Phew! it's hot work," said Morgan, wiping his face, for the heat in that airless chasm was terrific. "I don't think we shall get many birds."

"I'm not going to try," said Gregory, "for it's neck-breaking work staring up in the tops of these trees."

"We'll find some ducks soon," said the major, "or some ground pigeons.

You leave it to me. But where's that dog?"

There was no answer, for evidently no one knew. One thing was certain, however, Bruff had ceased barking, and therefore was not likely to disturb any game that might be on the way.

But though they progressed nearly a mile inland not a bird was visible.

There was the loud whizzing whirr of innumerable cicadas, and once or twice they heard a piping cry, after that all was stifling heat and silence.

Their progress was very slow, for after finding there was not much chance of getting a shot the various members of the party began to inspect the objects around them. The major lit his cigar, Mr Gregory examined the sand to see if it contained gold, Mr Morgan tried to find crystals among the pebbles, Mark gazed up at the patches of ferns and orchids among the branches of the trees, and Small and Billy Widgeon took a great deal of interest in the various pools they pa.s.sed, but found no fish, for at their coming the occupants of the pools took fright and stirred up the sand and mud so that the water became discoloured.

"And I lays as they're eels," said Billy Widgeon, as he carried on a discussion with Small.

"And I says they're big jacks or pikes," replied the boatswain; "but I want to know wheer they're going to feed the beasts."

"Feed what beasts?" said Mark, who was listening to their dispute and gazing down into a good-sized pool where the water was still in motion.

"These here beasts, sir," said Small with a grin. "All on us. These canvas bags is heavy, and I want to see the weight o' the wittles distributed. Much easier to carry that way, and the bottles pitched overboard."

"Hist!" whispered Billy Widgeon, who was peering through some bushes where the little river made a curve.

"Whatch yer found, Billy?"

"Don't make a row, and come and look here, Mr Mark, sir. Here's such a whacking great effet, same as used to be in our pond at home."

Mark hurried to his side, followed by Small.

"Why, it's a 'gator," the latter said as he reached the spot where there was an extensive pool, quite undisturbed, for the screen of bushes had hidden it from the pa.s.sers-by.

"A crocodile!" said Mark as he gazed excitedly into the clear water at the plainly defined shape of the little saurian, for it was not above four feet long.

"Wait a minute," whispered Billy; "I'll give him such a wonner in the skull," and picking up a heavy piece of stone from the many lying in the half-dry river-bed he pitched it with fairly good aim just above the basking reptile.

There was a dull plunge; the water seemed to be all alive for a few minutes, swirling and eddying, and sending rings to the edge, and then it began to subside, but it was discoloured now, and evident that the one crocodile they had seen was not without companions.

"Now, it's my 'pinion," said Billy, "that if you'd come fis.h.i.+ng instead o' shooting, and rigged up rods and lines and tried for these here things in these ponds, you'd have had some sport."

"But what would you have baited with?" said Mark, laughing.

"I d'know," said Billy Widgeon. "Yes, I do," he continued, "dog. They say as 'gators and crockydiles is rare and fond o' dog."

At that moment, by an odd coincidence, there was a piteous howling heard, followed directly after by a shot and then by another.

"Major's shot your dog, Mr Mark," said the boatswain, with a comical look at the captain's son, as they hurried on.

"Bruff wouldn't have howled before he was hurt," said Mark excitedly.

"They've shot some wild beast. Why didn't we keep up with them?"