The Blue Raider Part 6

The stranger brushed the sweat from his pallid brow with his sleeve, uttered an inarticulate grunt, then fell backwards fainting.

'Batten down, Ephraim, me lad!' cried Grinson.

The seamen had turned to good account the hour they had spent alone on the cliff top. With ready resource they had cut down pliant branches from the surrounding trees, torn up saplings by the roots, and begun to construct a hurdle large enough to cover the opening. It was unfinished, but as soon as Hoole had reached the top they threw it across the gap, and hastily piled upon it the material still unused.

The leading native, arriving half a minute later, found his egress blocked by this criss-cross of trunks and branches, which yielded only slightly to the b.u.t.ting of his head. Meanwhile, Hoole and Trentham were tearing down more branches, and casting them upon the heap, which quickly grew to such a size that Goliath himself could not have raised it.

From beneath it rose the m.u.f.fled cries of the savages. Then all was silent.

CHAPTER IV

MR. HAAN

'Sprinkle a little water on his face, Meek,' said Trentham, indicating the rescued prisoner, who lay unconscious where he had fallen. 'Only a little--we have none to spare.'

'Tickle his nose,' suggested Hoole. 'Trentham, I 'll take a look round; we may be on the edge of a hornets' nest.'

'Don't lose yourself, man. In fact, you 'd better not go out of sight.

It mayn't be safe to call to each other.'

The rays of the moon, now high over the sea, lit up their immediate surroundings. From the cliff edge to an irregular row of palms a few yards back, low-growing plants carpeted the ground. On one side of the chimney they were trodden down, and a faintly marked track was discernible until it disappeared among the trees. No sound broke the stillness except the wash of the surf two hundred feet below, and an occasional deep booming note from some distant spot in the forest, which Trentham identified as the call of the ca.s.sowary.

'"Saved his bacon!" Mr. Hoole said: 'tis a true word,' remarked Grinson.

'Which I mean to say, you saved him from being turned into bacon, sir--or ham. He 'd have cut up very well.'

He stood at Trentham's side, looking down at the man whom Meek was trying to restore to consciousness--a brawny figure, clad in duck trousers and a white flannel s.h.i.+rt, with a linen collar and a blue tie.

His features were heavy, his skin was deeply browned. The crown of his head was almost entirely bald, but a thick growth of short brown hair clothed his lips, cheeks, and chin.

'The very picter of Captain Lew Summers as once I sailed with,' Grinson went on. 'How 'd he get in this mess, sir?'

'I don't know,' replied Trentham. 'He hasn't said a word.'

He thought he saw the man's eyelids flicker.

'He 's coming to, sir,' said Meek, from the ground.

'Lift his head, Ephraim,' said Grinson. 'I 'm speckylating whether his first word 'll be a curse or a blessing.'

The man slowly opened his eyes, but it seemed to Trentham, watching him intently, that he had more command over himself than might have been expected in a man recovering from a swoon. He glanced from Meek to Grinson, then to Trentham, and raising himself on his elbows looked along the track that led among the trees.

'Feel better?' asked Trentham.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'FEEL BETTER?']

For a moment he did not reply; then slowly and with a curiously thick utterance, he said:--

'Yes. You save me? Dank you.

'Not at all. Couldn't leave a white man in the hands of n.i.g.g.e.rs, you know. Can you get up?'

'I d.i.n.k so.' With Trentham's a.s.sistance he struggled to his feet.

'Yes. Widout you I am killed--and eat! Ach!'

'You are not an Englishman?'

'Dutch. Mate of a trade schooner dat was wrecked up de coast.'

'And the rest of the crew?'

'Dead--dead; all but me. I swim strong.'

Grinson glanced at the Dutchman's trousers, then at Meek.

'Yes, but what good?' the man went on. 'De n.i.g.g.e.rs capture me. Widout you, my friend--Ach! Dey make me climb down; at de height of de moon'--(he shuddered). 'Yes, I know dem, widout you I am killed and eat. I dank you.'

'Well, it was uncommonly lucky we happened to be hereabouts,' said Trentham. 'We were in a ticklish situation ourselves.'

'Wrecked?'

The moonlight glinted on a pair of very keen eyes.

'No, we were sunk by a German raider. The boat we got away in, four of us, only escaped a sh.e.l.l by a hair's breadth. Did you sight the ruffians?'

'No. My schooner was wrecked up de coast. You escaped a sh.e.l.l!

Wonderful! And you go, where?'

'We don't know. We only got ash.o.r.e yesterday, and couldn't find a way up the cliffs till we discovered this crack.'

'I help you. Yes, it is a pleasure to do something for dem what save me. Dis coast, I know it a little. I was here before, since ten years, when I come wid expedition for search of--of copper. You listen to me; I show you. You go to Friedrich Wilhelmshafen; it is de German port----'

'Axing your pardon, mister,' Grinson interposed, 'you been a long voyage, surely. There ain't no German ports in New Guinea nowadays, and I lay that port have got a new name that don't break your jaw to say.'

The stranger turned his eyes on Grinson for a moment, then went on:

'It is a long way--a journey of eight or ten days. I show you. Dere is needed great care. De n.i.g.g.e.rs--cannibals--you see dem. Always must we watch, and wid luck--I say wid luck--we do not fall into deir hands.

Dey have villages along de coast--de coast is very dangerous, and we must go drough de forest.'

'Aren't there villages in the forest?' asked Trentham.

'In de mountains, yes,' said the Dutchman, waving an arm towards the interior. 'De coast and de mountains, dey must we avoid equally.'

'And the n.i.g.g.e.rs on the beach there--where is their village?'

'On de coast somewhere, I know not where. Dey carry me far from de place where I was wrecked--five days.'