The Captain of the Kansas Part 35

"Something of it, not all. But why--why has Captain Courtenay gone off in such a hurry?"

"Well, Miss Elsie, he figures that an open effort by daylight is the only way to rescue them. They will have seen our signals, and they can hardly fail to sight the boat. When he is close insh.o.r.e they are sure to make a dash for it, and he hopes to get them off before the Indians wake up to the game he is playing. There are eight men in the boat, and, with eleven others to help, there shouldn't be much difficulty in keepin' the savages at a proper distance."

"How soon--will he--reach the landing-place?"

"Huh, mebbe an hour; an' another hour for the home trip. He'll be aboard for tea."

Boyle uttered that concluding statement a trifle too airily. Elsie, for the first time in her life, knew what it meant to want to scream aloud.

The dog was dancing about excitedly, and whining without cease. She stooped and took him up in her arms.

"Please, Joey, be quiet," she murmured, her voice breaking with a stifled sob. She turned again to Mr. Boyle, who sedulously avoided her eyes.

"Did Captain Courtenay leave any message for me?" she demanded.

"Huh! Message! Why, he will be away only a couple of hours."

The chief officer's tone was gruff, conveying the idea that women asked silly questions, but his gruffness did not hoodwink Elsie. He had prepared his replies beforehand.

"Surely you will tell me, Mr. Boyle?" she pleaded wistfully.

"Well, I happen to know there's a letter in the doctor's hands. But that is to be given to you in case of accident alone. Isn't that so, doctor? And there's no sign of any accident yet, thank goodness!"

Boyle sighed, like a man who lays down a heavy load. He had successfully engineered Christobal into the conversation.

The Spaniard drew near. He had heard all that had pa.s.sed, and tried a new line.

"I was rather hoping that you would not put that awkward query," he said, more alive than the sailor to the wisdom of discussing the very topic which offered so many thorns. "Of course, none of us, least of all Courtenay himself, disguises the difficulties which confront him.

We have not fought the Alaculofs in two serious battles without learning their tenacity of purpose, and the mere fact that the men hidden in that cleft are compelled to remain invisible shows that they are beleaguered. But the last thing the Indians will expect is the appearance of a boat-load of armed men at this hour, and to take the enemy unawares is the essence of good generals.h.i.+p."

"When am I to have my letter?" she persisted, clinging tenaciously to one clear thought amid the phantasms which thronged her dazed mind.

"Oh, come, now! That is not the hopeless view I want you to take. In writing to you, Courtenay was only providing against a mishap. He would not go to certain death. He has too high a sense of what is due to his position as captain of a s.h.i.+p like the _Kansas_, loaded with a valuable cargo and carrying so many lives. Nor does Tollemache impress me as a would-be suicide. Both men think they will succeed, and they had not any trouble in obtaining a boat's crew of Chileans. So you see, there is a general belief in success, not failure."

She felt that the doctor was talking against time. He had instructions not to give her that letter until there could be no doubt of the fate which had befallen the rescuers. A mist came over her eyes, but she bit her lower lip fiercely, and the white teeth left their deep impress. The dog squirmed uneasily in her arms, and endeavored to lick her face. Joey's anxiety rivaled her own; had he, too, a premonition of evil?

Christobal was watching her intently. It was evident he feared the outcome of any sudden overthrow of her self-control.

"I think," he suggested, with a real sympathy in his voice, "that it would be better if you went to the saloon, or your cabin. Believe me, I shall come to you with every sc.r.a.p of news. Boyle will see all that happens and we shall know the best, or the worst, within an hour."

"If you would help me," she answered dully, "please take the dog away.

He is tearing my heart-strings. Poor little fellow, he makes no pretence."

So Joey was fastened up, much against his will, and his piteous protests no longer added to the girl's agony. She clung to the after rail, and watched the boat, now a tiny dot hard to discern amidst the ripples caused by the inflowing tide. Her intimate acquaintance with the daily happenings of life aboard told her that Courtenay had chosen the last hour of flood for his effort, thus gaining the advantage of the ebb in the event of the life-boat's being pursued by canoes on the return journey. By degrees, a tender little sprig of hope peeped up in her dulled consciousness. The boat was very near the distant rocks, and there was neither sight nor sound of the Indians. Could it be that they were afraid--altogether broken and demoralized by the slaughter of the preceding night? How quickly the acts of this drama s.h.i.+fted their scenes! Sixteen hours ago, she and Christobal were actually partic.i.p.ating in the defense of the s.h.i.+p's last stronghold; now, the broad decks resembled the inner s.p.a.ces of some impregnable fort, while the war was being carried into the enemy's territory. Yet the mortal peril which overshadowed them was threatening as ever. Life seemed to be doled out grudgingly, by minutes.

Suddenly she had a breathless desire to know why Courtenay was so sure that the men to whose help he had gone were really members of the crew.

Christobal, dreading her despairing questions, was standing in the position he had occupied before Boyle dragged him into prominence. The chief officer was bracing a telescope against the ensign staff, and keeping the lifeboat in a full field. Gray, she noticed, was not looking towards Guanaco Hill, but swept all parts of the coastline constantly with his binoculars. The Spaniard's field-gla.s.ses were slung around his neck. He was not using them. He appeared to be deep in thought. More often than not, his glance rested on the eddy created by the swirl of the current past the s.h.i.+p's quarter. With a species of divination, she guessed somewhat the nature of his reverie. The notion stung her into a sort of fury. To quell it, she must speak again.

"Will you tell me now what it was that Suarez found out?" she murmured.

The doctor quickly appreciated her need of material for further thought. She wanted to appraise at their true value all things affecting that daring enterprise, bringing the evidence to the bar of her hopes, and nerving herself to hear the crudest testimony as to its dangers. He was glad to be able to beguile the next half hour with his recital. He suppressed no detail except his own willingness to take Courtenay's place in the boat. Notwithstanding his slight affectations, he was a man of finely-tempered judgment. He saw now that Courtenay could not have accepted his offer, nor was it likely that the men in the boat would follow any other leader than the captain. He even smarted a little at the knowledge. A super-sensitive honor led him to fear that his successful rival might suspect him of vaingloriousness. Herein Christobal did himself an injustice, and Courtenay a greater one, as he was fated soon to learn.

When Elsie heard of the duplicity practised by Suarez it was good to see the hot indignation which reddened her brow. She realized that the man was unscrupulous enough to remain silent concerning the captured sailors, whose unhappy fate had contributed, in no small degree, to the chance which brought him to safety. She instantly fastened on to the theory that the Indians paid their first nocturnal visit to the s.h.i.+p in the belief that the vessel would prove as easy a prey as the castaways, whereas Suarez must have fallen beneath their stones and rude hatchets if he had attempted to board the _Kansas_ in broad daylight. With all a woman's single-mindedness, she regarded the Argentine miner as being directly responsible for Courtenay's hazard, nor would she listen to Christobal's mild protest that nothing could have been done earlier, no matter how outspoken Suarez chose to be.

The Spaniard encouraged her to debate this point--anything was better than the dumb pain of thought--but their talk ceased abruptly when a muttered exclamation from Gray sent Walker flying to the charthouse.

Forthwith the trumpet shriek of the siren sent its wild boom across the silent waters. Elsie needed no explanation of this tumult. Otter Creek was not so far distant that canoes quitting its shelter could not be seen with the naked eye. She counted sixteen putting forth in a cl.u.s.ter, and they all made for the adventurous life-boat.

"That is exactly what our captain expected," Christobal was ready to a.s.sure her. "He was certain he would reach the head of the bay before the Indians awoke to the meaning of his scheme. By this time, unless his plan fails, the men on sh.o.r.e should have joined him, no matter what number of savages may seek to oppose their pa.s.sage to the boat. The only doubtful question is-- Will he be able to beat off the rascals who are now cutting his line of retreat?"

"Huh!" growled Boyle, "the skipper's out of sight now. Gone into a small creek or something of the sort. Hope he heard the horn. Let her rip!" he added in a loud shout over his shoulder, and again the siren flung a warning to the foot of the mountain range.

It was evident that the wonderful eyesight of the Indians practically equalled the range of the telescope. The men in the canoes were aware of the lifeboat's disappearance, and their wet paddles flashed in the sun as they tore across the three miles of open water which separated the southern promontory from the inner sh.o.r.e of the island. After a phenomenal spell of fine weather in that storm-swept lat.i.tude, the atmosphere was transparent and bright as that of Stornoway on a clear day in December. The rays of the sun were reflected from many a blue glacier and ice-covered slope. Even the green of the higher belt of firs was dazzling in its emerald l.u.s.ter, and the copper-hued beeches beneath shone in patches of burnished gold. Elsie was sick at heart with the knowledge that red-eyed murder was stalking its prey under the resplendent mantle spread by nature over a scene of rare beauty. In an agony of apprehension she followed the progress of the canoes.

Creeping nearer Boyle, she whispered:

"For Heaven's sake, say the life-boat is visible again!"

He held up a hand to enforce silence. A deep hush fell on the s.h.i.+p.

"Listen!" he muttered, so low that Elsie alone caught the words. "Can you hear firing?"

She thought she could distinguish an irregular patter of dull reports, and the behavior of the Indians showed that additional excitement was toward. Many of them stood up and waved their arms, possibly as a signal to their allies on sh.o.r.e. The canoes raced madly. Where speed was vital the rough-hewn native craft were far swifter than the solidly-built lifeboat, with its broad beam and deep draft.

And that was all. Though they strained their eyes and spoke with bated breath, never a sight of boat or canoes was obtainable for hours after the latter were swallowed up by the trees which shrouded the creek at the foot of Guanaco Hill.

Isobel Baring, moved by genuine pity for her distraught friend, tried to induce her to leave the deck. But she shrank away, terrified by the fire which blazed from the blue eyes resting on her for an instant.

Mrs. Somerville came, but she, too, was repulsed. Elsie spoke no word.

She hardly moved. She clung to the rail, and gazed at the deepening shadows with the frozen stare of abiding horror. All things around her were unreal, fantastic; she dwelt in a world peopled by her own terrible imaginings. The smiling landscape was alive with writhing shapes. She fancied it a monstrous jungle full of serpents and grotesquely human beasts. The inert ma.s.s of the _Kansas_, so modern, so perfectly appointed in its contours and appurtenances, crushed her by its immense helplessness. The dominant idea in her mind was one of voiceless rage against the s.h.i.+p and its occupants. Why should her lover, who had saved their lives--who had plucked the eight thousand tons of steel fabric from the sharp-toothed rocks time and again--why should he be lying dead, disfigured by savage spite, while those to whom he had rendered such devoted service were coolly discussing his fate and speculating on their own good fortune? That thought maddened her. Her very brain seemed to burn with the unfairness of it all.

When Christobal made a serious effort to lead her away, she threatened him with the fierceness of a mother defending her child from evil.

But relief was vouchsafed in the worst throes of her agony. It was some poor consolation to let her sorrow-laden eyes rest on the far-off trees which enshrouded him. What would befall her when night came, and the s.h.i.+p drew back out of the living world into the narrow gloom of deck and gangway, she could not know. She felt that her labored heart would refuse to bear its pangs any longer. If death came, that would be sweet. Her only hope lay in the life beyond the grave. . . . And what a grave! For her, the restless tides. For him! Surely her mind would yield to this increasing madness.

Boyle or Gray had never relaxed their vigil by her side. It was Gray who made the thrilling discovery that the canoes were returning. As the fleet crossed the bay it could be seen that they were towing the life-boat. But never a sign of any prisoners could the most careful scrutiny detect. The boat was empty; it was easy to count every man in the canoes as they pa.s.sed into Otter Creek. And there were wounded Indians on board many of them. That was a significant, a tremendous, fact. There had been hard fighting, and the boat was captured, but some, if not all, of the crew must have joined their comrades in the sanctuary of the haunted cave. The accuracy of this deduction was proved by the presence of the smoke column on the hill. Indeed, the opinion was generally held that its spiral clouds were denser than at any previous hour, thus showing that the defenders were endeavoring to make known their continued existence.

Elsie awoke from her trance, but, in returning to life, she was transformed into a stern, resourceful, commanding woman. Her face had lost its gentleness; the pleasant curves and dimples of mouth and chin had hardened into a sort of determination; even her slight, graceful figure seemed to a.s.sume a certain squareness which betokened her resolve to act as her lover would have acted were he the watcher from the s.h.i.+p and she the prisoner pent behind that screen of rock and wild forest.

None suspected the mighty force which worked this resolution in her nature. She conducted herself with a cunning that was wholly foreign to her character. Her first care was to hoodwink her companions into the belief that the strain of the day had pa.s.sed. She accepted a cup of tea brought by Isobel, expressed her sorrow that if by word or look she had given cause for offence, and entered eagerly into the pros and cons of the debate which sprang up as to the best course to pursue on the following day.

Everyone agreed that nothing could be done that night. If the pillar of smoke were visible at sunrise, and Walker could possibly manage to fire the boilers, Boyle suggested that some sailors in the jolly-boat should sound a channel along which the vessel itself might steam slowly towards Guanaco Hill. That, in itself, would be a move of considerable value. If they could lessen the distance between the sh.o.r.e and the s.h.i.+p, each yard thus gained would help the prisoners and impose a stronger barrier against the Alaculofs, who would probably be daunted when they found that the vessel's mobility was restored.

This proposal was deemed so excellent that they all dined in vastly better spirits than any of them antic.i.p.ated. Christobal, puzzled out of his scientific senses by Elsie's change of manner, kept a close eye on her. He was amazed to see her eat a better meal than she had eaten for days, and she was normally a quite healthy young person, with a reasonably good appet.i.te.

Boyle and Gray took the first watch, from eight o'clock to midnight.

Christobal and Walker shared the next one; by four o'clock it would be daylight, so the doctor was retiring early to his cabin when he met Elsie, by chance as it seemed. She was self-possessed, even smiling, with a certain dour serenity.

"The day's doings have tired me," she said. "I am off to bed. Will you rap on my door soon after dawn?"

"Yes," he replied, secretly marveling at her air.

"I plead guilty to a slight feeling of nervousness," she went on. "Is your revolver loaded? Would you mind lending it to me? I think I could sleep more soundly if I had a reliable weapon tucked under my pillow."