The Blue Raider Part 17

But the native brought only the food to which they were accustomed, and of which they were heartily tired. It was dark by the time they had finished their meal. They had no light, but they squatted on their mats, chatting quietly until sleepiness should steal upon them. The sounds from beyond the stockade died down as usual; it seemed, indeed, that stillness had fallen upon the village earlier than on any previous night. Grinson was the first to close his eyes; the other two were still talking in low tones when a sudden commotion from the direction of the gate caused them to spring up and rush to the doorway, where Grinson immediately joined them. They could see nothing in the darkness, but the cries of the two men who always stood on guard were drowned by a chorus of savage yells. Men were heard rus.h.i.+ng across the enclosure; then came the whistling of spears and sharp cracks of clubs falling on solid skulls.

'The beggars outside are attacking the stockade,' said Trentham.

''Tis rank mutiny and rebellion,' growled Grinson. 'Shall we lend a hand, sir?'

Hoole had whipped out his revolver.

'Hold hard,' said Trentham; 'we may want that for a later occasion. I think we had better let them fight it out. For one thing, we 're not used to their weapons; then, if we take sides, we 're hopelessly done with the Papuans, and shouldn't dare to show our faces among them.'

'But we 'll have to fight for our lives if they break in,' said Hoole.

'We might get away now.'

'I don't think they 'll break in. The stockade 's very stout. Don't you think we might turn the crisis to account?'

'How do you mean?'

'Let us wait a little and see how the fight goes. Whichever side wins, I think we may have a trump card.'

They stood listening to the din, which appeared to be concentrated in the neighbourhood of the gate. It lasted only a few minutes. The sentries had detected the stealthy approach of the Papuans in the nick of time. The stockade was manned before the attack gathered force; its stout timbers resisted all the onslaughts of the undisciplined savages, who drew off, baffled, carrying away those who had been disabled by the weapons of the defenders.

'Now 's the time for us to chip in,' said Trentham. 'It's clear that we are responsible, partly at any rate, for the situation. The Papuans suspect us of complicity with the Germans; they are angry because they can't feast on us; and they believe it's due to us that their friends have been captured. The present chief is no good; he 'll either give way to them in the end, or will ultimately be beaten by sheer weight of numbers. Nothing will restore the position but the return of the rightful chief--that young fellow Flanso.'

'Who 's a prisoner,' remarked Hoole.

'Exactly. Well, we must rescue him and the other prisoners, including Meek. By that means we shall please everybody.'

'You 've got a plan?'

'An idea came into my head suddenly just now when the fight was going on. With care and luck it may work. If you like it, I 'll go and see the chief, and we can start to-morrow.'

During the next twenty minutes the three men were engaged in an earnest discussion. Then Trentham made his way to the chief's house, where most of the important men of the community were a.s.sembled. Half an hour later he returned to his friends.

'It's all right,' he said. 'By Jove! talking pidgin is the most tiring job I know. In the morning the chief will make an oration at the gate.

He 's not at all keen on his new job, and would like to see Flanso back.

He believes the rebels will be willing to give us a chance. Then it's up to us.'

The chief turned out to be better as an orator than as a man of action--Cicero rather than Coriola.n.u.s, as Trentham suggested. His speech brought about an instant change of feeling in the Papuans. If the white men restored Kafulu and his comrades to them, they would let bygones be bygones. If Flanso also was restored to his people, they would dutifully accept his authority.

Two hours after sunrise the whole population, a silent throng, gathered at the sides of the track to watch the white men start on their enterprise. Three stalwart natives accompanied them, each of whom carried, wound about his body, a long coil of gra.s.s rope. Grinson was himself again.

'Good-bye, old ugly mug,' he cried as he pa.s.sed the man who had discovered his totem mark. 'Wait till the clouds roll by. Farewell, sweet maid'--to a hideous old woman; 'for they all love Jack, and you 'll meet us coming back, and there 'll be dancing with the la.s.ses on the green, oh! It pleases 'em, sir,' he said, apologetically, to Trentham, 'though they don't understand, poor heathens. But I 've been told I 've got a very good singing voice.'

'Let's hope you won't sing another tune before the day 's over,' said Trentham.

CHAPTER XI

THE ORDEAL OF EPHRAIM MEEK

Meek's mind worked slowly. For some little time, as he marched sh.o.r.ewards among his fellow captives, he realised merely the fact that he was a prisoner in the hands of the Germans. He did not ask himself why he had been captured, or throw his imagination forward in an effort to forecast his fate. With his usual shambling gait he trudged on, glancing now at the Papuans, now at the Germans, and occasionally stroking his thin whiskers in the manner of one who finds the world a great puzzle.

Presently illumination came to him. Fixing his eyes on the stout figure of the man who led the party, he muttered 'Trousers!' and thought of Mr.

Grinson. Yes, to be sure, this was the extraordinary mariner who had swum ash.o.r.e from a wreck without soiling his trousers, who had been saved from the cannibals' cooking pot, and had mysteriously disappeared when leading his rescuers to Mushroom Hill. His trousers were not so clean as they had been; there were black smudges on them. What would Mr. Grinson say to that?

Before Meek had got much further in his cogitations, he found himself fully occupied in keeping his footing on a rugged zigzag path that scored the surface of a steep downward slope. Then, lifting his eyes, he beheld the sea, and below, in a still cove, a vessel painted bright blue lying close insh.o.r.e, and moored stem and stern. In shape she resembled the raider which had sunk the _Berenisa_ a few weeks before, but she had had a new coat of paint. Meek saw at a glance that she had steam up, and wondered whether she was short-handed and he had been impressed to make up her complement.

A turn in the path shut the vessel from his view, but opened up another scene. On the left a number of natives were felling small trees, in charge of a European who every now and then cracked a long whip. 'I don't hold with n.i.g.g.e.r-driving!' thought Meek, shaking his head as he pa.s.sed on.

The path becoming easier, he was now able to think of something more than his feet. ''Tis the Raider,' he said to himself, 'though never did I see a s.h.i.+p of her tonnage painted sky blue afore. Trousers is a German, without a doubt. Now what 's he think he 's going to do with me? I 'll not sign on with a German pirate--never!'

Another turn brought the cove again into view. The seaplane had just risen from the surface, and was now soaring towards the western horn. A few seconds afterwards Hahn and his party reached the sentry, who saluted, looking curiously at Meek. Hahn struck to the left, and presently, after another steep descent, came to the broad ledge on which natives were moving up and down, carrying baskets out of a shallow tunnel. The full baskets were tipped over on to the beach, then taken back to the tunnel to be refilled. In charge of the toilers was a st.u.r.dy German seaman, who had a rifle slung over his back and held in his right hand a long, evil-looking whip.

Meek's ideas were becoming clarified. As a seaman he knew what a great expenditure of coal was involved in keeping the Raider with steam up, even though the fires were banked. Clearly the Germans had been scouring the neighbourhood for men to work the seam which they had discovered in the cliff side. But he was still wondering what he had to do with all this, when he received a rude shock.

'Another batch for you, Hans,' said Hahn in German to the overseer.

'There 's an Englishman among them as you see. It's almost time to knock off now. Put him in the compound with the rest; we 'll set him at work to-morrow.'

The man grinned. Herding the new batch of prisoners into an enclosure like a sheep pen, adjacent to the mouth of the tunnel, he drew a hurdle across the entrance, and returned to superintend the last operations of the day. Hahn, meanwhile, had descended to the beach and entered the officers' shed.

Meek, of course, had not understood what Hahn had said. Without suspicion of the morrow's destiny, he found himself penned up with half a dozen black men, and felt the indignity of his position.

'Like sheep!' he muttered. 'Like sheep! What would Mr. Grinson say?'

He was no longer beset by fears of being eaten. The natives squatted apart, talking among themselves, and watching their comrades on the ledge. If Meek could have understood their speech, he would have known that they were already suspicious of Kafulu, who had quitted them a little while before. Was it for this that he had enticed them away--to carry heavy baskets of black rock from a dark fearsome hole? How long would it be before they received the firesticks promised them? Their comrades looked unhappy. How quiet they were! How they shrank away when they pa.s.sed the man with the whip! Where was Flanso?

Presently a whistle sounded below. The men who had empty baskets set them down against the wall of the ledge and stood in line. Those whose baskets were full tipped their contents on to the beach, and joined their fellows. From the mouth of the tunnel streamed the n.i.g.g.e.rs, blinking as they came into the light. Wearily they dragged themselves to their places in the line--silent, cowed, miserable. Among them was Flanso, and at sight of him the six natives in the pen drew in their breath. His cheeks were hollowed; his skin was no longer a glistening bronze, but the dull black of coal dust.

The German counted the men as they formed up. When he had counted twenty-eight he cracked his whip, and the limp nerveless creatures turned to the right and marched into the pen, where they flung themselves down in utter dejection. They scarcely heeded the newcomers; only Flanso started on seeing Meek, and turned upon him a look of agonised inquiry, of which the seaman was unconscious.

A few minutes later four seamen came from below, each carrying two pails. They set these down within the pen, and at a signal from Hans the natives approached one by one, and took their food in their hands.

Each man had as much as his two hands would hold of a sort of thick porridge. When Meek's turn came, he shook his head.

'No, it ain't proper,' he said. 'Not for a white man. I can't do it.'

Hans knew no English, but Meek's objection was obvious. He laughed, and when the seamen returned with pails of water he said to them: 'The English swine won't eat out of his hands. Tell the quarter-master.'

They jeered at Meek, took up the empty pails and departed. When they came back for the water-pails, one of them carried a basin of porridge, a spoon, and a mug of water, which he handed to Meek with an oath. While Meek ate his supper the Germans stood around him, uttering flouts and jibes, which, being incomprehensible, did not spoil his appet.i.te. When he had finished they left with the utensils, another man came to relieve Hans for the night, and the prisoners were left in the pen until it was almost dark. Then the sentry cracked his whip, the natives sprang to their feet and lined up, and Meek looked on in astonishment as they were marched into the tunnel, the entrance to which, when all had gone in, was closed by means of a stout wooden grating. He was left alone in the pen.

'I don't rightly know if this is what they call slavery,' he murmured, 'but it do seem so. I don't hold with it. What would Mr. Grinson say?'

The night was chilly, and Meek slept uneasily. Once he was awakened by a flash from a lantern, and saw another German staring at him curiously.

'Aha, John Bull!' said the man with a grin.

Meek turned over and went to sleep again.