Hunting the Skipper Part 90

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"Oh yes, I hear it plain enough," growled the big sailor, "but can't you see that you were off that thick head o' yourn, and began shouting just when the enemy was close at hand?"

"Was that it, Mr Murray, sir?" cried the man.

"Yes, t.i.tely; but you could not help it. Now be quiet and help us to watch," said the mids.h.i.+pman, "for the enemy can't be very far away, and they're evidently searching for us."

"_Phee-ew_!" whistled the man softly. "I do understand now. Very sorry, Mr Murray and Mr Roberts."

"Pst!" whispered Tom May. "Down flat, everybody. Here they come again;" and as the order was obeyed the sound of breaking twigs and the rustling of tropical leaves was heard; and before long the hiding party began to make out that the slaver's men were for some reason or another returning in their direction, spread over a pretty wide surface of the thick brake, and apparently so arranged that they were bound to cover the hiding-place of the unfortunate party.

But somehow the difficulties of the search favoured the concealed man-o'-war's men, who from where they lay saw the thick undergrowth so beaten that the outer leader of the line came within a few yards only of the hiding-place, giving Tom May a clue to the reasons for the enemy's return in the shape of one of the _Seafowl's_ muskets, which he held on high as he pressed forward through the trees.

"But how could you tell?" whispered Murray, as soon as their foes had pa.s.sed. "You can't be sure, Tom, that it was one of our muskets."

"Well, no, sir, I can't be sure, but it seems to me it was one of ours; elsewise why should he be carrying it like he was? P'raps I'm wrong, but there he was, holding it up in a niminy piminy way, as if he felt it was what them half-bred n.i.g.g.e.rs calls a fetish as would help 'em to find the chap as let it fall. Anyhow just harkye there! I'm blest if they arn't coming again!"

"Yes," said Murray, after listening. "They are coming back."

"Well," said Tom May, "bad luck to 'em! There's four on us now to give 'em a shot."

"On'y three, messmate," said t.i.tely, with a sigh. "I arn't got no gun.

That there one the whitey brown chap carried must be mine."

There was no time nor chance for further conversation respecting their position. Nothing could be done but lie low crouching beneath the densest part of the undergrowth in the hope of escaping the keen eyes of the slaver's men; and twice over Murray caught sight of the man who seemed to be the leader, who evidently attached a great deal of importance to the gun he still carried on high, till at last, sick at heart, the middy gave up their position as hopeless, for the savage-looking wretch was leading his men straight for them.

Murray pa.s.sed the cutla.s.s he carried into his left hand, while he bent over his wounded comrade and stole his right down beside him to grasp that of Roberts.

"In case of the worst," he whispered, and he felt his brother middy's fingers close round his own, before he s.n.a.t.c.hed his hand away so as to seize the cutla.s.s, ready to strike at the leader of the final rush, when as the man turned his head and shouted to his followers to come on, he raised the musket to give it a wave in the air, but somehow caught it amongst the twining canes, when his progress was checked, and he fell headlong amongst the dense growth, the piece exploding with a loud concussion, upon which the men uttered a loud yell and dashed away, evidently under the impression that they had been attacked.

The leader staggered to his feet growling like some savage beast, and roared out to his followers to return. His words were unintelligible to the listeners, but their tones suggested plainly enough that he was cursing them fiercely and hurling anathemas and threats at them as to what he would do when he overtook them.

Then, as he found himself left alone, he s.n.a.t.c.hed at the musket again, but without result, for it was fast in the tangle of twining canes, at which he tore and tore again till the tough green growth gave way and he stood up, examining lock and trigger now as if to try and make out whether the weapon was injured, when he roared again to his men and stood listening, but without avail.

If he had only turned upon his heels and taken half-a-dozen steps he must have walked over the hidden party of Englishmen, but the falling and explosion of the weapon and the flight of his men seemed to have completely upset his calculations; and hence it was that Murray, after giving up all hopes of escaping, saw the ruffian stand in the midst of the silence, snapping the flint and pan of the musket to and fro three or four times, begin to try and reload the piece without success, and then shoulder it and start off in search of his followers, now muttering angrily, now shouting to them again and again, without, however, any appearance of success.

CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

HUNTED.

"Think he's gone now, Mr Murray, sir?" said Tom May in a whisper.

"I'm afraid to hope for it," replied Murray.

"So'm I, sir," said the man; "but what a toucher! Just think of his bungling off that old musket and scaring the lot! He may think himself lucky that he didn't shoot some of 'em."

"Or hisself," growled t.i.tely. "That makes me sure it was the one I was handling, for it had been strained a bit so as the hammer was a bit loose. But hadn't we better get on somewhere else for a bit, sir, 'fore he comes back?"

"I don't think I would, Frank," whispered Roberts sadly. "I'm so weak and helpless I don't know what to do, and we're just as likely to blunder against the enemy as they are to come upon us. If I could only have some water I wouldn't care."

"Just wait for a half-hour or so, sir, and give the beggars a chance to get a bit further away, and then we'll have a look round and see if we can't find water, and if we don't come upon any at once we'll see what we can do in the way of digging some up with the cutla.s.ses."

"Oh, I'll wait," said Roberts, with a piteous sigh, "but don't wait too long, or I shall die of thirst."

It was a guess at the time, but all being perfectly still, and as if the enemy had gone right away, it was determined to make a venture in search of water.

"Shall we go together, Tom?" asked Murray.

"It's like making half the chance, sir," replied the man. "I think I'd take one way and me the other."

"Very well; but let's go very carefully; and we ought to cut or mark the trees if we could, so as to find our way back."

"It's like showing the way we've gone, sir," said the man; "but there, we must run some risks."

"Whatever you do, Tom," said the mids.h.i.+pman, "be careful about finding your way back."

"I'll do my best, sir," replied the man.

"Water! For goodness' sake, water!" moaned Roberts; and those words started the pair off at once, each feeling perfectly despairing of success, in opposite directions, and each with the same precautions, till sick at heart and hopeless after marking his way step by step either by blazing the sides of the trees or cutting the cane in a way that he felt pretty sure of following back, Murray sank down faint and exhausted, to rest for a few minutes before deciding whether he should persevere a little more or return to his unfortunate companion in despair.

"It seems so cowardly to give up," he said to himself; "but Tom may have succeeded, and even if he has not, it would be better to try in a fresh direction."

He sat motionless listening for a few minutes in indecision, feeling that if he did not find water or food he would be in as bad a plight as his companion, when he suddenly caught at the nearest tree, drew himself up, and stood trembling. The next minute what had seemed to be an utter wilderness a.s.sumed a different form from that which he had observed before. He realised that some form of cultivation had been carried out, and following up the track, he pa.s.sed on through a narrow, trampled patch, to find himself in an opening where, roughly hacked out of the forest, a clearing had been made, along one side of which ran a grip of water, cleared out for reasons connected with irrigation, and there stretching out before him were a few dozen of banana trees, Indian corn, and what he directly after made out to be the succulent yam plant.

Murray's despair was a thing of the past, and his spirits rose to a pitch of excitement now, for at the end of the clearing was the roughly-made hut of some negro, which appeared to have been only quite lately forsaken.

He entered the hut cautiously, expecting to find traces of inhabitants, and these were simple and plain in the shape of several cocoanut sh.e.l.ls that had been used for food vessels, and close at hand a large dry calabash.

Trembling with excitement, the discoverer seized the latter vessel and one of the nut-sh.e.l.ls, to bear them to the side of the grip, where he dipped with the sh.e.l.l and drank with avidity of the perfectly clear-looking water, which proved to be of a deep amber colour, but tasted sweet and refres.h.i.+ng.

He refilled the nut-sh.e.l.l and drank again with a feeling of excited hope running through him. Then filling the calabash, he drew the cutla.s.s he bore, hacked through the fruit-stalk of the ripest banana plant he could find, shouldered it, and with the calabash in his right hand paused for a few moments to look excitedly round, fully expecting to find that he was watched.

But the place was quite forsaken, and, trembling with eager desire now to get back to the two sufferers he had left behind, he muttered to himself, "Saved!" and stepped out, but only for his heart to sink again, for in his excitement he felt that he had not taken sufficient precaution as to his way back.

It was after some minutes and only through forcing himself to step back and stand in the very position where he had first felt, that he was gazing upon the clearing, that he caught his idea of location of the place again, when he started back with the treasures he had found, and further encouraged himself with one of the sweet succulent fruit which with the water gave him invigoration and enabled him to recover his traces and blazings of the trees on his way back.

And now it was that he found how much further he had strayed away than he had thought, and twice over he seemed to have missed his marks entirely, and turned hot and faint.

A fresh draught of the water he bore, however, restored the failing clearness of his intellect, and he found that which he had missed, started afresh, and at last to his intense delight he staggered with his load to where he found Roberts lying asleep, but quite alone.

"d.i.c.k!" he cried excitedly, as he looked round in vain, while laying down his burden.

There was no reply.

"d.i.c.k! Here, d.i.c.k," he whispered softly, lest he might raise an alarm and bring upon them danger from their lurking foes.

There was no reply, but the poor fellow stared up at him in a half-delirious way.

Hunting the Skipper Part 90

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Hunting the Skipper Part 90 summary

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