Fire Mountain Part 40

"I don't know; I have had a feeling--oh, well, no matter," rejoined Little Billy. "I guess they would have finished me, as well as the others, had I been on board."

"Had you been on board?" echoed Martin.

"I was already on my way to the beach when they boarded. Pa.s.sed them on the way. It was just an accident, a simple mishap," explained the other. "It happened just after I roused MacLean from his snooze in the galley. You recall how dark it was last night. I felt my way aft, and paused by the capstan, where you found my tobacco pouch. I placed it there preparatory to filling my pipe. My pipe wasn't in my pocket, and I remembered that it was lying on the thwart of the dingey, where I left when I came on board after sounding to anchor in the afternoon.

"Well, you may remember what state I was in. The booze craving made me jumpy and unreasonable. I decided I must have that pipe, no other pipe would do. So I crossed to the side and felt around until I grasped the boat's painter; and then I overhauled until the dingey was beneath me.

I had climbed up on the rail, and was perched there on my knees, and as I twisted around to make the painter fast, I over-balanced and fell.

"I guess I struck the boat's gunwale a glancing blow with my head.

Anyway, I bounced off into the water. When I came to the surface I was at first too stunned to cry out. I needed all my breath, anyway, to keep afloat. The tide was flooding like a millrace, and sweeping me with it. I couldn't see the s.h.i.+p; I was isolated in the black fog.

"The water was icy cold and my clothes dragged me under. You remember how chilly it was last night; I had on sea boots and reefer coat. I struggled desperately, under water half the time, and managed to slip off the boots; then I wriggled out of my coat and guernsey. By this time I knew I was near the beach, and I was almost spent.

"Then, a boat pa.s.sed me. I could not see it--but I heard oars, or fancied I did. I tried to call out. But I was too far gone; every time I opened my mouth it filled with water, and I only spluttered.

Anyway, I wasn't sure it was oars; it was more likely surf on a rock, I thought. A little later, I felt the ground under my feet, and staggered up on the beach.

"I was lying on the sand, waiting for strength that would enable me to hail the s.h.i.+p, when they rushed you. I heard a shriek coming out of the darkness. It must have been MacLean. Then shouts, and a shot, and Ruth's scream, and--silence. Oh, I knew then what had happened, and that I had really pa.s.sed a boat, Carew's boat!

"I don't like to think about the time that followed. I think I was crazy for a time; I know I ranged up and down the beach like a madman.

But I retained enough sense to know I couldn't swim against the tide.

It was a miracle I kept afloat with the tide in that Arctic water, and me a lubberly swimmer. Then, after a long while--how long a time I don't know; each moment seemed an age--I stumbled upon MacLean's body.

Poor Sails, he could not foretell his own finis.h.!.+

"He--he couldn't have been quite dead when they threw him over, or he wouldn't have made the beach so quickly. But he was quite dead then.

I took his knife from his hip--this is it I have here--because I felt I might have a chance to use it. G.o.d, how I longed for a chance to use it! Finding MacLean sort of steadied me; it shocked me sane, so to speak. The fog began to thin out, and I slipped into a cave.

"Pretty soon the fog lifted altogether, and it was a bright calm morning. Through the cave mouth, I could see the j.a.ps parading the deck. But I didn't see them making preparations to get the s.h.i.+p under way, so I reasoned the ambergris was still ash.o.r.e, and that they would come for it. So I just waited.

"You see, I thought it was all ended for the Happy Family. I knew Carew, and these yellow devils; I was sure you had all been killed, and that Ruth--oh, well, I was going to meet them when they came ash.o.r.e, and do a little work with Sails' knife before they finished me.

"At last their whaleboat started for the beach. I was ready to show myself, when I noticed you in the party--you, alive. I thought if you were alive, some of the others might also be alive, and there might be something to hope for. So I lurked in the cave, and watched."

"I saw you!" interjected Martin. "Lord, what a start the glimpse of your face gave me! I knew you were alive, but I was convinced you were on board. I thought I was seeing ghosts."

"You went in through the Elephant Head, and I went after you,"

continued Little Billy. "The cave I was in (the one those fellows lived in, by the reek of the place) communicated with the pa.s.sage you traveled, so I could fall in behind without going out on the beach. I trailed your party to the big cave, stopped just back of the light, and watched you cross the ledge. Then came that awful blast (did you notice it was steam, Martin?) and I saw you struggling with one of them, and you knocked another one over the edge, and I thought it was time for me to lend a hand. But the sight of me was too much for that fellow who held the line.

"Well, they are gone, poor devils. I suppose I should feel a bit sorry for them. But I don't. I know just what brutes they were. What surprises me, is that they didn't make a thorough job of it and slaughter all hands, instead of only three. What do they want of prisoners? Except--Ruth?"

"I am sure Carew prevented that," said Martin. He rehea.r.s.ed the scene in the cabin. "Carew is wild about Ruth, and she has him bluffed, actually bluffed. If it had been left to Ichi, there, I am sure we all would have been killed, and the directions for finding the treasure tortured out of Ruth. But Carew protected her--and us. He hopes to gain her favor, to compel her to love him, or--at least accept him. He even hinted he would place all the rest of us safely ash.o.r.e. I think he was lying."

"Depend on it, he was," a.s.serted Little Billy. "Place you safely ash.o.r.e on this island, I suppose, And conduct you to the edge of that hole, and personally chuck you in. That's Carew's style! My G.o.d, that is an awful hole, Martin! It got on my nerves. Listen, she's blowing again!"

They regarded each other silently, listening to the roaring down there in the depths. It grew and grew, became for a moment a harsh menacing, overwhelming screech, and then slowly subsided to the murmurous moaning that never ceased.

"It happens continuously," commented Little Billy. "Every hour or so, since I've been ash.o.r.e. Blow the roof off some day. Here comes the rest of it."

"The rest of it" was the rumble and the little quake. It brought vividly before Martin's eyes the horrid picture of the ghostly lighted chasm, and the yellow men falling to their death. It brought disquietude to another mind, also. Ichi emitted a wail of pure terror.

"This place has got him," said Little Billy. "By Jove, it has nearly got me, too. One could swear those were human voices in torment, down there. Eh, Ichi," he added in louder tones, "don't you hear your s.h.i.+pmates calling to you to join them? Down yonder in the hole?"

Ichi chattered in his native tongue. He may have been answering Little Billy; it sounded as though he were cursing him. Whatever it was, it was frightened and forceless talk; and when presently Ichi lapsed into English, it was the fear-stricken coolie who entreated, and not the swagger j.a.panese gentleman who commanded.

"Oh, Mr. Blake, you are gentleman. Mr. Billy is not speak truthfulness, yis? Mr. Blake, please, you will not give me to the 'Deep Place.' Not to the 'Evil Ones.' Mr. Blake, I help you, I be of much usefulness. You promise--Mr. Billy spoke with jokefulness. Yis, prease?"

"He's forgetting his English. What do you know about that?" said Little Billy.

"He thinks you meant what you said about his s.h.i.+pmates calling,"

replied Martin, in a low voice. "He thinks you meant that you were going to drop him into the hole, after his gang. Threaten him some more. The more frightened he is, the more eagerly he'll do what we wish. There goes seven bells on the s.h.i.+p--we'll have to use him in a few minutes."

"So you don't like the thought of being chucked into the hole, eh, my yellow snake?" drawled Little Billy, strolling over to Ichi's resting place. Despite his knowledge that the hunchback was acting, Martin shuddered at his tones; his voice was vibrant with bitter hate. "But it is not what you like this time, Ichi. It is what we like, what I like, eh? You see this knife; you feel it when I p.r.i.c.k your throat--so? Well, it is old Sails' knife, Ichi, poor old Sails' knife.

Why not slit your lying throat with Sails' knife, like you slit Sails'

throat--if I like, eh? But I don't like, Ichi. That's too sweet a finish for you. No, when we get ready we are going to cart you down to the edge of that hole, and--over the edge you go!"

"Oh, please, please--oh, _prease_ Mr. Brake!" chattered Ichi. "You come take him away. You not let him do it? Oh, Mr. Blake, a long time I your friend; you helpful me I helpful you, I be your man. Not the Deep Place, not the--_aiee-ee_," and his voice trailed off in a dolorous howl as some freak of the draught caused the voice of the pit to momentarily shriek.

"All right, Billy, on watch here. Let me talk to him now," said Martin.

He dragged Ichi closer to the window, so that daylight fell upon the man's face. Then he sat down in front of him, and regarded him narrowly.

Ichi was in a frenzy of mingled hope and fear. He gabbled half incoherently his allegiance to his captor, his love for him, his willingness to do this, that, anything--only, not the Deep Place--_prease_! He was a pitiable object, could Martin have found pity for him in his heart. He was no longer the suave, dapper j.a.panese gentleman. His boasted gentility was gone with his courage; and superst.i.tious terror had quite overcome his Western skepticism. He was just a yellow coolie, terror-stricken, cringing before and begging of his master.

"Wild Bob has just come up on the p.o.o.p. He's talking to the mate,"

called Little Billy.

"Good," said Martin. He unbuckled the strap from around Ichi's ankles, and hoisted the man erect.

"Now, Ichi, you do what I say, and I promise you it won't be the Deep Place. Indeed, I promise you your life, so far as I hold it--though you don't deserve it. But if you don't do what I say----"

"Yis--oh, yes, please, I helpful you muchly," he promised, eagerly.

"Carew is at the taffrail," said Little Billy. "He's hailing the beach--hailing Ichi."

Martin had finished looping the strap about the chain of the handcuffs.

Now he thrust the man forward, into the window; he, himself, retaining a grasp on the leather, and remaining beyond the window edge, by the hunchback's side.

Captain Carew stood at the taffrail and searched the face of the mountain. Presently he cupped his hands, and sent a second stentorian hail across the water--"Ahoy-y-y! Ahoy, the beach! Ichi!"

"So he's a bit worried about his partner," whispered Little Billy.

"That's good."

Martin commanded Ichi. "Answer him."

Ichi hesitated. But a jerk on the strap opened his mouth. He sent a piercing "Aiee-e-e!" out of the window.

Carew looked eagerly for the sender of the hail. But it was Asoki, the mate, who located the figure framed in the opening. He clutched Carew's arm, and pointed. And Martin noted that not only the pirate captain was interested. Charley Bo Yip's head popped out of the galley door; and the guards all stared sh.o.r.ewards.

"Are you all right?" hailed Carew. "Have you found the stuff?" The voice came very clearly over the water; the cliffs making a sounding board that accented, then echoed, every syllable.