The Nameless Island: A Story of Some Modern Robinson Crusoes

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XV

  A KNIFE-THRUST IN THE DARK

  More than once Blight bent over the array of death-dealing weapons, buton each occasion his nerve failed him.

  Accustomed as he was to deal swiftly with the natives, never hesitatingto shoot down any black creature that thwarted him, he shrank fromtackling his intended victims.

  Not from feelings of compunction did he pause; he was a coward atheart, and the thought of a possible failure filled him with a horribledread. So, nervously sawing at the tiller, he gnawed his lower lip andformed fresh plans for evil.

  Meanwhile Mr. McKay, unconscious of his peril, proceeded with hispreparations. He deeply regretted the fact that the case of surgicalinstruments salved from the _San Martin_ was at that moment--like theDutchman's anchor--left at home, or rather on McKay's Island. In thefinal hurry of embarkation that important item had been overlooked.

  Grasping the glowing portion of the cleaning rod, Mr. McKay approachedthe unconscious lad. Once more telling the other two lads to hold thepatient's arm firmly, he inserted the red-hot metal into the wound.

  It was the work of a few seconds, but the operation of cauterising thewound was accomplished. Time alone would tell whether this rudesurgery was a success or not.

  An hour later the low-lying island of Ni Atong was in sight, and justbefore sunset the yawl and her two native consorts entered the lagoon.

  It was a pitiful home-coming. The miserable remnant of the fleet ofcanoes told the tale, and already the beach was lined with a crowd ofwailing women and crying children, with a sprinkling of old men, whoseservices had been dispensed with on the fatal expedition.

  The latter had good cause for being cast down.

  In many of the Pacific Islands old age is looked upon as a uselessqualification, and, failing a crowd of prisoners to serve as sacrificesand to appease the warriors' appetites, it was their aged and infirmfellow-tribesmen who were doomed to die to keep the angry godsgood-tempered.

  "Coming ashore, boss?" asked Blight, as if he did not care one way orthe other. "I can give you a shakedown in my hut."

  "I'm afraid we cannot manage it," was the reply. "You see, with ourtwo patients it is out of the question."

  "Well, well! Maybe it will be best, 'specially as them natives aregoing to have a bit of a bust-up to-night. You mayn't like it, thoughI'm used to it. When do you set sail for your own island?"

  "To-morrow at dawn."

  "Oh!"

  Mr. McKay looked up sharply. There was a strange sound about that"Oh!" The ex-pearler realised that the exclamation was a weakexpression of regret, and hastened to explain.

  "I thought as how you would be wanting fresh water, 'specially for yourtwo young chaps. Make a day of it, and have a spell ashore. One moreday won't make no difference like."

  "Possibly not," assented Mr. McKay.

  "Then there are yams and plantains. They'll be rare good for feverishfellows. You're welcome, you know."

  "I'll see what the others say. So now, Blight, my son can row youashore."

  "This is a present, isn't it, boss?" asked Blight, pointing to therevolver that he had used to such good purpose at Ahii.

  "Certainly, I gave it you," was the reply.

  "Thanks!"

  Blight picked up the weapon and thrust it with assumed carelessnessinto his belt; then, bidding the crew of the yawl good night, hestepped into the dinghy.

  Hardly had the sun set, than the wearied crew retired to the cabin forrest and refreshment.

  Ellerton was awake, feverish, and at intervals in great pain. Quexostill slumbered. Andy and Terence were sleepily nodding their heads inan almost vain endeavour to keep awake.

  Mr. McKay, though utterly done up, announced his intention of keepingwatch on deck the moment he had finished supper.

  Just as the moon rose, a blood-curdling roar came from the island.Instantly the two McKays and Terence rushed on deck. Fires gleamed inthe centre of the wretched village, and around the flames danced ahundred natives, yelling, screaming, and invoking their idols.

  "What are they up to, pater?" asked Andy, as his father scanned theshore with a pair of night-glasses. "Let me have a look when you'vefinished."

  "You had better not," was the reply. "Take my word for it."

  The lads understood. They were fairly well acquainted with the hideousorgies that are practised on these islands.

  "And to think we helped those villains," remarked Andy.

  "Well," admitted his father, "it was, as I said before, the only courseopen to us. Now, I think all danger is past. They are not strongenough to attempt to seize our island, so we can go back with easyminds."

  "I hope so," returned his son. "But my word, it's cost us something!"

  "I can't understand that chap Blight," said Terence. "He seemed mightycurious to know how many of us lived on the island."

  "You told him?"

  "Yes! I let the cat out of the bag, I fear."

  "You did?" replied Mi. McKay gravely. "I'm sorry; but perhaps there'sno harm done. However, we'll set sail to-morrow morning in any case.I, for one, will not be sorry to say good-bye to Mr. Blight. Now,lads, you must turn in. I'll be all right here; and to-morrow, allbeing well, I'll make up arrears of sleep."

  Left to himself, Mr. McKay sat in the cockpit and watched the orgiesashore till the fires died out and the sounds of the worshippersceased. Half-an-hour later he appeared, to all intents and purposes,to be lying in the stern sheets fast asleep.

  At about three in the morning the moon, now high in the heavens, threwher beams upon a strange drama.

  Swimming with eel-like swiftness and silence towards the unguarded yawlcame three men. Two were natives, the third a white man, and each hada glittering knife betwixt his teeth.

  Grasping the boat's stern, Blight (for it was he) listened intently.Then, hearing only the sounds of deep slumber arising from the cabin,he cautiously placed his foot over the bobstay, and with slow andstealthy movement hoisted himself clear of the water.

  Having made sure that the deck was deserted, he climbed softly upon thefo'c'sle and proceeded to unfasten his revolver, which he had securedto the top of his head by means of a strip of cocoa fibre.

  Presently he was joined by one of the natives, and at a short intervalby the second. Creeping towards the open skylight the miscreantlistened once more. The loud ticking of the cabin chronometer and thedeep, regular breathing of the sleepers, alone broke the stillness.

  Suddenly Blight perceived Mr. McKay's form lying with his head buriedin his arm upon one of the seats of the cockpit. This was awkward. Heraised his revolver, then reflected that ere he could reach the cabinafter firing the fatal shot the occupants would be aroused.

  Sprawling full length upon the cabin-top, Blight watched the slumberingvictim with considerable misgivings, till realising that Mr. McKay wassound asleep, he raised himself upon his elbow, and beckoned to the twonatives. Uplifting his knife, Blight made an imaginary thrust, thenpointed meaningly towards the sleeper.

  Just then a shark glided past the boat at barely an oar's length.Rising to the surface it turned on its back and snapped at somefloating object. The sharp, almost metallic snap of those powerfuljaws filled the would-be murderer with alarm. He realised that thesleeper might awake, and also that his own retreat was cut off.

  The sweat poured in torrents from his brow and ran down his chalkycheeks. But the sleeping man stirred not.

  Reassured, Blight again signed to the natives. Knife in hand the twoglided along the narrow waterways, dropping noiselessly into thecockpit, and crept towards their unsuspecting prey.

  Blight, revolver in hand, followed, stopping by the side of the cabinbulkhead, ready to dive into the cabin and complete the murderousbusiness the moment the fatal blow was struck.

  Like panthers the two natives launched themselves upon their victim,their knives flashed in the moonlight; the next instant they wereburied to the hilt in the body of the sleeper.


  Ere the weapons could be withdrawn, two shots rang out in quicksuccession. One of the natives fell face foremost across the coamingof the cockpit, the other gave a spring and plunged lifeless into thesea.

  Then, before Blight could realise the sudden turn of affairs, he feltthe contact of the muzzle of a smoking revolver against his temple.

  "Hands up, Blight!" exclaimed Mr. McKay resolutely.

  The would-be murderer's weapon fell from his nerveless grasp andimmediately his hands were raised high above his head.

  The noise of the firing had aroused the sleeping inmates of the cabin,and Andy, Terence, and even Ellerton rushed through the narrow doorwayinto the well.

  "Get hold of a few pieces of lashing and secure the rascal," said Mr.McKay calmly.

  "You are not hurt?" asked his son anxiously.

  "Hurt? Not a bit of it. No thanks to this beauty, though. See!"

  And, still keeping the weapon at the would-be assassin's head, hepointed to the made-up figure of himself, in which the hilts of the twoknives glittered in the moonlight.

  Andy and Terence lost no time in securing the ankles of the prisoner.Then ordering him to lower his hands, the lads deftly lashed his elbowstogether behind his back.

  "So, Mr. James Blight, alias 'Chinese Pork,' I find your delightfulcharacter has undergone little change during the last twenty years.One would have thought that your unpleasant experiences in connectionwith the _Sea Belle_----"

  "What d'ye mean?" gasped the prisoner, his eyes rolling heavily in histerror.

  "I beg you not to interrupt. A connection with the _Sea Belle_ wouldhave taught anyone but an utter villain or a fool a lifelong lesson. Iwill pass over those minor affairs at Boni Harbour and FortescueStrait, though by mentioning them you can realise that I know a gooddeal of your former career. What you've been doing since is of littleconsequence, though I'll wager that your existence will not bearinvestigation. Now, to complete your record, you've been caught in theact of attempting to treacherously slay your white--well, I won't sayfriends. Thanks to a merciful Providence, your schemes were thwarted.I am now going to keep you in custody till I can hand you over tojustice at Brisbane, where you will have a fair trial and be allowed toanswer to a number of various crimes."

  Mr. McKay paused to note the effect of his accusation, then hecontinued:

  "I am going to keep you a close prisoner in the fo'c'sle till we returnto our island. You will then be kept in confinement ashore till suchtime as we are able to reach some island under the control of arecognised British governor. Have you anything to say?"

  The ex-pearler maintained a sullen silence, and, without offering anyresistance, he was carried into the fo'c'sle and locked in, there tomeditate on the fate in store for him.

  "Ellerton, go back to your bunk. You ought not to be here," exclaimedMr. McKay.

  "But I feel all right again," replied the youth.

  "Probably you do, but with your arm in that state absolute rest isessential. So go. Andy, we've had enough of this island, so let'sclap on all sail and shape a course for home."

  In the moonlight the entrance through the reef was plainly visible.There was a favourable breeze, so that the yawl could lay on her coursewithout having to tack.

  As the anchor rose, a long-drawn chorus of shouts of rage came from thebeach, and a swarm of arrows, all of which fell short, hurtled throughthe air.

  "So much for our native allies," observed Mr. McKay. "They are all inthe swim in this business. No matter, they can do us no harm."

  To the accompaniment of a farewell shout of anger from the baffledinhabitants of Ni Atong, the yawl glided swiftly across the moonlit sea.