With Cochrane the Dauntless Part 9

When Stephen peeped out by the side of the hut he saw that there were several people about, apparently returning from the spot where they had congregated. He rejoined his companion, and they waited an hour. By this time perfect silence had fallen on the village. The heat was intense, and even in the forest all sound had ceased, as if birds and insects were alike indulging in a mid-day sleep.

"I will go and have a look again now," Stephen said. "If I find no one about I will cross the street and try to cut the ropes, and bring him here at once. If there is a guard over him I will come back again to you. We ought to be able to silence the guard without his giving the alarm, especially as he is likely to be half-asleep."

"You had better leave your pistols here, Master Steve, and take your cutla.s.s. A pistol-shot now would bring the whole village down on us, and we should have no chance of getting through the swamp with a hundred of those fellows after us. You had better draw your sword, and leave the scabbard and belt here. In the first place, it is handier to have the sword ready; and it is not so likely to knock against anything when you have got it in your hand as it would be trailing behind you as you crawl along. I shall be on the look-out, sir, and shall be by your side in a brace of shakes if you hail."

Stephen parted the bushes, and then stepped lightly to the corner of the hut. Not a soul was to be seen moving about, and he dashed across to the house opposite, crawled along by its side, and then looked round. The great fire had burned low, and Stephen shuddered as his eye fell upon the ma.s.s of embers and thought of what was lying below them. There was no one about-the whole of the natives had retired to their huts. In another moment he was beside the prisoner. It was Joyce. Bands of cord-like creepers were wrapped round his legs; his wrists were tied together, and from them a rope went to a peg four feet beyond him, extending his arms at full length beyond his head. A similar fastening from his ankles kept his legs at full stretch in the other direction. Fastened thus, the Malays evidently considered that there was no necessity for a guard over him.

"Joyce, old fellow," Stephen whispered in his ear, "are you conscious?"

The lad opened his closed eyes with a start.

[Ill.u.s.tration: STEPHEN CRAWLS TO THE RESCUE OF HIS CHUM, JOYCE.]

"Don't speak," Stephen went on.

"Is it really you, Steve, or am I dreaming?"

"You are awake enough, Tom. I am here with Wilc.o.x and will soon get these things off you." Drawing his jack-knife he cut the bonds. "Do you think that you can walk, Tom?"

"Yes, the things were not very tight, only being pegged out like this I could not move an inch."

Stephen was lying down by his side while he cut the fastenings. He now looked round again.

"There is no one in sight, Tom, but you had better wriggle yourself along until you get to the corner of the hut."

As soon as they were round the corner they stood up. As they did so, the sailor put his head out through the bushes and waved them a silent cheer.

Stephen went first, and as soon as he saw that the street was empty he beckoned to his companion, and they ran across to the other side; a moment later they joined the sailor. The latter gave a grip to Joyce's hand, and then held out to him a cocoa-nut he had just cut open in readiness. This he seized eagerly and took a long drink.

"I was choking with thirst," Joyce gasped, as he finished the contents of the nut.

"Take care how you go through the bushes," the sailor whispered, as he turned and led the way; "everything is so quiet that a rustle might be heard."

They went along with the greatest caution. Their bare feet fell noiselessly on the spongy soil, but sometimes as they sank into the mud the suck of the air as they drew them out made a sound that startled them.

At last they reached the tree where they had left all the cocoa-nuts with the exception of the one that the sailor had brought on. When they stopped, Joyce threw himself down and burst into tears.

"Leave me alone," he said, as Stephen began to speak to him, "I shall be better directly, but it has been awful. I will tell you about it afterwards. I tried to make up my mind to stand it bravely, and it is the getting out of it when there did not seem to be a chance in the world that has upset me."

In five minutes he rose again to his feet. "I am ready to go on now," he said.

"Yes, I think it is time to be moving, sir. As soon as those beggars wake up and find you have gone, they will set out in chase, and the longer start we get the better."

CHAPTER V.

AGAIN ON THE ISLAND.

Over such ground it was impossible to hurry, but in three-quarters of an hour they reached the edge of the wood.

"I have been thinking that we had better take to the water for a bit,"

Stephen said. "They are sure to think that you have made for the coast, and they will not be long in finding our footmarks. Though I don't know much about the Malays, I expect they can follow a track like all other savages. The only thing to settle is whether we shall swim across the river and go along in that direction, or keep on this side. We have not seen anything of alligators, and I don't think the sharks ever cross the bars and come into fresh water."

"All right, sir! If you think it is best to cross, I am ready," Wilc.o.x said. "A dip will do us good, for the heat in that wood is enough to roast an ox; besides, it will wash the mud off us. But we must look about for a log to put the gun and our pistols and the ammunition on, we must not risk wetting that."

There were many pieces of drift-wood by the edge of the water, and choosing one of them they fastened the weapons and cartridges on the top, and then, entering the water and pus.h.i.+ng it before them, swam over to the opposite side. Then taking the arms again they let the log drift down the river, and keeping in the water ankle-deep they followed the stream down to the sea, and continued their course along the sand washed by the surf.

"How long a start do you think we shall get, Wilc.o.x?" Stephen asked.

"I should say that two hours is as much as we can hope for."

"Well, we shall be a good long way off by that time. I feel a new man after that swim."

"So do I," Joyce said, speaking more briskly than he had hitherto done.

"Well, we had better set off at a trot," the sailor said. "I expect those beggars can run a good deal faster than we can. The great thing is for us to get so far away before it gets dark that they won't be able to see our figures. If it is eight bells before they fairly set off after us, they will only have a little better than two hours and a half. They are sure to be thrown out for a bit at the mouth of the river. They will see our footsteps at the water side, but won't know whether we have crossed or have kept along on that side. Very likely some of them will go one way and some the other, still they are sure to have a talk and a delay. They ought not to travel twice as fast as we have, at any rate, and they would have to do that to catch us before it is dark."

They set off at a brisk trot. The sand was fairly hard below the spot where the surf rushed up over it, and the walking was easy in comparison to that in the swamp or on loose sand. Still it was hot work. The sun blazed down upon them, there was not a breath of wind, and they were drenched with perspiration. They kept on steadily, however, slackening only occasionally into a walk for two or three minutes, and then going on again at a sharp pace.

"They won't catch us before it gets dark," the sailor said confidently. "I reckon we must be making near seven knots an hour, and even a Malay could not go at fourteen; besides, they will have to keep a sharp look-out for footmarks in the sand above water-mark, as we might at any time come up from the water and take to the forest. Anyhow, we must keep it up as long as we can go. We ain't running for amus.e.m.e.nt, it is for a big prize, for our lives depend on our keeping ahead."

Anxiously they watched the sun as it sank down towards the horizon, and there was an exclamation of satisfaction as it disappeared below the water.

"Another half-hour and we shall be able to take it easy," Stephen said. "I should not think they would keep up the search after dark, and then we could safely take to the forest. The wind is springing up already, and this light drifting sand will cover all signs of our footsteps before morning."

"We had better keep in the water as long as we can, Master Steve. They can't trace our footsteps here, but they might under the trees. These sort of chaps are like dogs. I expect they can pretty well follow you by smell, and the hope of getting heads will keep them at it as long as there is the slightest chance of their overtaking us."

"Well, we may as well be on the safe side anyhow, Wilc.o.x, and will keep on here as long as we can drag our feet along. We have got no boots to pinch our corns, and every time the surf rushes up it cools our feet, so we ought to be able to keep on till eight bells in the middle watch, by that time I should think we shall have gone something like forty miles from that river."

"All that," the sailor agreed. "It was about four bells when we swam across, and in the four hours we have certainly gone twenty-four knots, and I should say a bit further than that. If we only make three knots for the next six hours, we shall have logged over forty by eight bells, and I should say that even the Malays will hardly come as far as that, especially as the men who take this side won't be sure that we have not gone the other, and have been caught by their mates."

They kept steadily on, but their speed gradually abated, and for the last two hours before the hands of Stephen's watch pointed to twelve o'clock, they stumbled rather than walked.

"I think that will do," he said at last, "it is nearly eight bells now.

Let us tread in each other's footsteps as well as we can, so that there shall only be one line of marks."

The change from the firm sand to the yielding drift-in which their feet sank three or four inches-finished them, and although they had not more than a hundred yards to walk to the trees, it seemed to them that they would never get there. At last they reached the edge of the forest, staggered a few paces in, and then without a word dropped down and almost instantaneously fell asleep.

The sun was high when they woke. Stephen was the first to get on to his feet. He went to the edge of the trees and looked across. To his satisfaction he saw that the drifting sand had obliterated all trace of their pa.s.sage.

"Then I vote," Wilc.o.x said, when he was told the news, "that we go a bit further into the wood and camp there for the day. I am just aching from head to foot."

"I think we must go on a bit further, Wilc.o.x. You see there are no cocoa-nuts here, and we must keep on until we come to a grove of them. The trees are never far apart, and we may not have a mile to go. We certainly can't stay here all day without something to eat and drink. You see we threw our nuts away when we started."

"I suppose you are right, sir," the sailor said, slowly getting up on to his feet; "but it is hard, after such a run as we made yesterday, to have to get up anchor again."