by H. G. Wells
CHAPTER IX. ON GOAT ISLAND
1
The whack of a bullet on the rocks beside him reminded him that he wasa visible object and wearing at least portions of a German uniform. Itdrove him into the trees again, and for a time he dodged and dropped andsought cover like a chick hiding among reeds from imaginary hawks.
"Beaten," he whispered. "Beaten and done for... Chinese! Yellow chapschasing 'em!"
At last he came to rest in a clump of bushes near a locked-up anddeserted refreshment shed within view of the American side. They madea sort of hole and harbour for him; they met completely overhead. Helooked across the rapids, but the firing had ceased now altogether andeverything seemed quiet. The Asiatic aeroplane had moved from its formerposition above the Suspension Bridge, was motionless now above Niagaracity, shadowing all that district about the power-house which had beenthe scene of the land fight. The monster had an air of quiet and assuredpredominance, and from its stern it trailed, serene and ornamental, along streaming flag, the red, black, and yellow of the great alliance,the Sunrise and the Dragon. Beyond, to the east, at a much higher level,hung a second consort, and Bert, presently gathering courage, wriggledout and craned his neck to find another still airship against the sunsetin the south.
"Gaw!" he said. "Beaten and chased! My Gawd!"
The fighting, it seemed at first, was quite over in Niagara city, thougha German flag was still flying from one shattered house. A white sheetwas hoisted above the power-house, and this remained flying all throughthe events that followed. But presently came a sound of shots and thenGerman soldiers running. They disappeared among the houses, and thencame two engineers in blue shirts and trousers hotly pursued by threeJapanese swordsman. The foremost of the two fugitives was a shapely man,and ran lightly and well; the second was a sturdy little man, and ratherfat. He ran comically in leaps and bounds, with his plump arms bent upby his side and his head thrown back. The pursuers ran with uniforms anddark thin metal and leather head-dresses. The little man stumbled, andBert gasped, realising a new horror in war.
The foremost swordsman won three strides on him and was near enough toslash at him and miss as he spurted.
A dozen yards they ran, and then the swordsman slashed again, and Bertcould hear across the waters a little sound like the moo of an elfin cowas the fat little man fell forward. Slash went the swordsman and slashat something on the ground that tried to save itself with ineffectualhands. "Oh, I carn't!" cried Bert, near blubbering, and staring withstarting eyes.
The swordsman slashed a fourth time and went on as his fellows came upafter the better runner. The hindmost swordsman stopped and turned back.He had perceived some movement perhaps; but at any rate he stood, andever and again slashed at the fallen body.
"Oo-oo!" groaned Bert at every slash, and shrank closer into the bushesand became very still. Presently came a sound of shots from the town,and then everything was quiet, everything, even the hospital.
He saw presently little figures sheathing swords come out from thehouses and walk to the debris of the flying-machines the bomb haddestroyed. Others appeared wheeling undamaged aeroplanes upon theirwheels as men might wheel bicycles, and sprang into the saddles andflapped into the air. A string of three airships appeared far awayin the east and flew towards the zenith. The one that hung low aboveNiagara city came still lower and dropped a rope ladder to pick up menfrom the power-house.
For a long time he watched the further happenings in Niagara city as arabbit might watch a meet. He saw men going from building to building,to set fire to them, as he presently realised, and he heard a seriesof dull detonations from the wheel pit of the power-house. Some similarbusiness went on among the works on the Canadian side. Meanwhile moreand more airships appeared, and many more flying-machines, until at lastit seemed to him nearly a third of the Asiatic fleet had re-assembled.He watched them from his bush, cramped but immovable, watched themgather and range themselves and signal and pick up men, until at lastthey sailed away towards the glowing sunset, going to the great Asiaticrendez-vous, above the oil wells of Cleveland. They dwindled and passedaway, leaving him alone, so far as he could tell, the only living manin a world of ruin and strange loneliness almost beyond describing. Hewatched them recede and vanish. He stood gaping after them.
"Gaw!" he said at last, like one who rouses himself from a trance.
It was far more than any personal desolation extremity that flooded hissoul. It seemed to him indeed that this must be the sunset of his race.
2
He did not at first envisage his own plight in definite andcomprehensible terms. Things happened to him so much of late, hisown efforts had counted for so little, that he had become passive andplanless. His last scheme had been to go round the coast of England asa Desert Dervish giving refined entertainment to his fellow-creatures.Fate had quashed that. Fate had seen fit to direct him to otherdestinies, had hurried him from point to point, and dropped him atlast upon this little wedge of rock between the cataracts. It didnot instantly occur to him that now it was his turn to play. He hada singular feeling that all must end as a dream ends, that presentlysurely he would be back in the world of Grubb and Edna and Bun Hill,that this roar, this glittering presence of incessant water, would bedrawn aside as a curtain is drawn aside after a holiday lantern show,and old familiar, customary things re-assume their sway. It would beinteresting to tell people how he had seen Niagara. And then Kurt'swords came into his head: "People torn away from the people they carefor; homes smashed, creatures full of life and memories and peculiarlittle gifts--torn to pieces, starved, and spoilt."...
He wondered, half incredulous, if that was in deed true. It was so hardto realise it. Out beyond there was it possible that Tom and Jessicawere also in some dire extremity? that the little green-grocer's shopwas no longer standing open, with Jessica serving respectfully, warmingTom's ear in sharp asides, or punctually sending out the goods?
He tried to think what day of the week it was, and found he had lost hisreckoning. Perhaps it was Sunday. If so, were they going to church or,were they hiding, perhaps in bushes? What had happened to the landlord,the butcher, and to Butteridge and all those people on Dymchurch beach?Something, he knew, had happened to London--a bombardment. But who hadbombarded? Were Tom and Jessica too being chased by strange brown menwith long bare swords and evil eyes? He thought of various possibleaspects of affliction, but presently one phase ousted all the others.Were they getting much to eat? The question haunted him, obsessed him.
If one was very hungry would one eat rats?
It dawned upon him that a peculiar misery that oppressed him was not somuch anxiety and patriotic sorrow as hunger. Of course he was hungry!
He reflected and turned his steps towards the little refreshment shedthat stood near the end of the ruined bridge. "Ought to be somethin'--"
He strolled round it once or twice, and then attacked the shutterswith his pocket-knife, reinforced presently by a wooden stake he foundconveniently near. At last he got a shutter to give, and tore it backand stuck in his head.
"Grub," he remarked, "anyhow. Leastways--"
He got at the inside fastening of the shutter and had presently thisestablishment open for his exploration. He found several sealed bottlesof sterilized milk, much mineral water, two tins of biscuits and a crockof very stale cakes, cigarettes in great quantity but very dry, somerather dry oranges, nuts, some tins of canned meat and fruit, and platesand knives and forks and glasses sufficient for several score of people.There was also a zinc locker, but he was unable to negotiate the padlockof this.
"Shan't starve," said Bert, "for a bit, anyhow." He sat on the vendor'sseat and regaled himself with biscuits and milk, and felt for a momentquite contented.
"Quite restful," he muttered, munching and glancing about himrestlessly, "after what I been through.
"Crikey! WOT a day! Oh! WOT a day!"
Wonder took possession of him. "Gaw!" he cried: "Wot a fight it's been!Smashing up the poor fellers! 'Eadlong
! The airships--the fliers andall. I wonder what happened to the Zeppelin?... And that chap Kurt--Iwonder what happened to 'im? 'E was a good sort of chap, was Kurt."
Some phantom of imperial solicitude floated through his mind. "Injia,"he said....
A more practical interest arose.
"I wonder if there's anything to open one of these tins of corned beef?"
3
After he had feasted, Bert lit a cigarette and sat meditative for atime. "Wonder where Grubb is?" he said; "I do wonder that! Wonder if anyof 'em wonder about me?"
He reverted to his own circumstances. "Dessay I shall 'ave to stop onthis island for some time."
He tried to feel at his ease and secure, but presently the indefinablerestlessness of the social animal in solitude distressed him. He beganto want to look over his shoulder, and, as a corrective, roused himselfto explore the rest of the island.
It was only very slowly that he began to realise the peculiarities ofhis position, to perceive that the breaking down of the arch betweenGreen Island and the mainland had cut him off completely from theworld. Indeed it was only when he came back to where the fore-end ofthe Hohenzollern lay like a stranded ship, and was contemplating theshattered bridge, that this dawned upon him. Even then it came with nosort of shock to his mind, a fact among a number of other extraordinaryand unmanageable facts. He stared at the shattered cabins of theHohenzollern and its widow's garment of dishevelled silk for a time,but without any idea of its containing any living thing; it was all sotwisted and smashed and entirely upside down. Then for a while he gazedat the evening sky. A cloud haze was now appearing and not an airshipwas in sight. A swallow flew by and snapped some invisible victim. "Likea dream," he repeated.
Then for a time the rapids held his mind. "Roaring. It keeps on roaringand splashin' always and always. Keeps on...."
At last his interests became personal. "Wonder what I ought to do now?"
He reflected. "Not an idee," he said.
He was chiefly conscious that a fortnight ago he had been in Bun Hillwith no idea of travel in his mind, and that now he was between theFalls of Niagara amidst the devastation and ruins of the greatest airfight in the world, and that in the interval he had been across France,Belgium, Germany, England, Ireland, and a number of other countries.It was an interesting thought and suitable for conversation, but ofno great practical utility. "Wonder 'ow I can get orf this?" he said."Wonder if there is a way out? If not... rummy!"
Further reflection decided, "I believe I got myself in a bit of a 'olecoming over that bridge....
"Any'ow--got me out of the way of them Japanesy chaps. Wouldn't 'avetaken 'em long to cut MY froat. No. Still--"
He resolved to return to the point of Luna Island. For a long time hestood without stirring, scrutinising the Canadian shore and the wreckageof hotels and houses and the fallen trees of the Victoria Park, pink nowin the light of sundown. Not a human being was perceptible in that sceneof headlong destruction. Then he came back to the American side ofthe island, crossed close to the crumpled aluminium wreckage of theHohenzollern to Green Islet, and scrutinised the hopeless breach in thefurther bridge and the water that boiled beneath it. Towards Buffalothere was still much smoke, and near the position of the Niagara railwaystation the houses were burning vigorously. Everything was deserted now,everything was still. One little abandoned thing lay on a transversepath between town and road, a crumpled heap of clothes with sprawlinglimbs....
"'Ave a look round," said Bert, and taking a path that ran through themiddle of the island he presently discovered the wreckage of the twoAsiatic aeroplanes that had fallen out of the struggle that ended theHohenzollern.
With the first he found the wreckage of an aeronaut too.
The machine had evidently dropped vertically and was badly knockedabout amidst a lot of smashed branches in a clump of trees. Its bent andbroken wings and shattered stays sprawled amidst new splintered wood,and its forepeak stuck into the ground. The aeronaut dangled weirdlyhead downward among the leaves and branches some yards away, and Bertonly discovered him as he turned from the aeroplane. In the duskyevening light and stillness--for the sun had gone now and the windhad altogether fallen-this inverted yellow face was anything but atranquilising object to discover suddenly a couple of yards away. Abroken branch had run clean through the man's thorax, and he hung, sostabbed, looking limp and absurd. In his hand he still clutched, withthe grip of death, a short light rifle.
For some time Bert stood very still, inspecting this thing.
Then he began to walk away from it, looking constantly back at it.
Presently in an open glade he came to a stop.
"Gaw!" he whispered, "I don' like dead bodies some'ow! I'd almost ratherthat chap was alive."
He would not go along the path athwart which the Chinaman hung. He felthe would rather not have trees round him any more, and that it would bemore comfortable to be quite close to the sociable splash and uproar ofthe rapids.
He came upon the second aeroplane in a clear grassy space by the side ofthe streaming water, and it seemed scarcely damaged at all. It looked asthough it had floated down into a position of rest. It lay on its sidewith one wing in the air. There was no aeronaut near it, dead or alive.There it lay abandoned, with the water lapping about its long tail.
Bert remained a little aloof from it for a long time, looking intothe gathering shadows among the trees, in the expectation of anotherChinaman alive or dead. Then very cautiously he approached the machineand stood regarding its widespread vans, its big steering wheel andempty saddle. He did not venture to touch it.
"I wish that other chap wasn't there," he said. "I do wish 'e wasn'tthere!"
He saw a few yards away, something bobbing about in an eddy that spunwithin a projecting head of rock. As it went round it seemed to draw himunwillingly towards it....
What could it be?
"Blow!" said Bert. "It's another of 'em."
It held him. He told himself that it was the other aeronaut that hadbeen shot in the fight and fallen out of the saddle as he strove toland. He tried to go away, and then it occurred to him that he might geta branch or something and push this rotating object out into the stream.That would leave him with only one dead body to worry about. Perhaps hemight get along with one. He hesitated and then with a certain emotionforced himself to do this. He went towards the bushes and cut himself awand and returned to the rocks and clambered out to a corner between theeddy and the stream, By that time the sunset was over and the bats wereabroad--and he was wet with perspiration.
He prodded the floating blue-clad thing with his wand, failed, triedagain successfully as it came round, and as it went out into the streamit turned over, the light gleamed on golden hair and--it was Kurt!
It was Kurt, white and dead and very calm. There was no mistaking him.There was still plenty of light for that. The stream took him and heseemed to compose himself in its swift grip as one who stretches himselfto rest. White-faced he was now, and all the colour gone out of him.
A feeling of infinite distress swept over Bert as the body swept out ofsight towards the fall. "Kurt!" he cried, "Kurt! I didn't mean to! Kurt!don' leave me 'ere! Don' leave me!"
Loneliness and desolation overwhelmed him. He gave way. He stood onthe rock in the evening light, weeping and wailing passionately like achild. It was as though some link that had held him to all these thingshad broken and gone. He was afraid like a child in a lonely room,shamelessly afraid.
The twilight was closing about him. The trees were full now of strangeshadows. All the things about him became strange and unfamiliar withthat subtle queerness one feels oftenest in dreams. "O God! I carn'stand this," he said, and crept back from the rocks to the grass andcrouched down, and suddenly wild sorrow for the death of Kurt, Kurt thebrave, Kurt the kindly, came to his help and he broke from whimpering toweeping. He ceased to crouch; he sprawled upon the grass and clenched animpotent fist.
"This war," he cried, "this blarsted foolery of a war.
"O Kurt! Lieutenant Kurt!
"I done," he said, "I done. I've 'ad all I want, and more than Iwant. The world's all rot, and there ain't no sense in it. The night'scoming.... If 'E comes after me--'E can't come after me--'E can't!...
"If 'E comes after me, I'll fro' myself into the water."...
Presently he was talking again in a low undertone.
"There ain't nothing to be afraid of reely. It's jest imagination. Poorold Kurt--he thought it would happen. Prevision like. 'E never gave methat letter or tole me who the lady was. It's like what 'e said--peopletore away from everything they belonged to--everywhere. Exactly likewhat 'e said.... 'Ere I am cast away--thousands of miles from Edna orGrubb or any of my lot--like a plant tore up by the roots.... And everywar's been like this, only I 'adn't the sense to understand it. Always.All sorts of 'oles and corners chaps 'ave died in. And people 'adn't thesense to understand, 'adn't the sense to feel it and stop it. Thoughtwar was fine. My Gawd!...
"Dear old Edna. She was a fair bit of all right--she was. That time we'ad a boat at Kingston....
"I bet--I'll see 'er again yet. Won't be my fault if I don't."...
4
Suddenly, on the very verge of this heroic resolution, Bert becamerigid with terror. Something was creeping towards him through thegrass. Something was creeping and halting and creeping again towards himthrough the dim dark grass. The night was electrical with horror. For atime everything was still. Bert ceased to breathe. It could not be. No,it was too small!
It advanced suddenly upon him with a rush, with a little meawling cryand tail erect. It rubbed its head against him and purred. It was atiny, skinny little kitten.
"Gaw, Pussy! 'ow you frightened me!" said Bert, with drops ofperspiration on his brow.
5
He sat with his back to a tree stump all that night, holding the kittenin his arms. His mind was tired, and he talked or thought coherently nolonger. Towards dawn he dozed.
When he awoke, he was stiff but in better heart, and the kitten sleptwarmly and reassuringly inside his jacket. And fear, he found, had gonefrom amidst the trees.
He stroked the kitten, and the little creature woke up to excessivefondness and purring. "You want some milk," said Bert. "That's what youwant. And I could do with a bit of brekker too."
He yawned and stood up, with the kitten on his shoulder, and staredabout him, recalling the circumstances of the previous day, the grey,immense happenings.
"Mus' do something," he said.
He turned towards the trees, and was presently contemplating the deadaeronaut again. The kitten he held companionably against his neck.The body was horrible, but not nearly so horrible as it had been attwilight, and now the limbs were limper and the gun had slipped to theground and lay half hidden in the grass.
"I suppose we ought to bury 'im, Kitty," said Bert, and lookedhelplessly at the rocky soil about him. "We got to stay on the islandwith 'im."
It was some time before he could turn away and go on towards thatprovision shed. "Brekker first," he said, "anyhow," stroking the kittenon his shoulder. She rubbed his cheek affectionately with her furrylittle face and presently nibbled at his ear. "Wan' some milk, eh?" hesaid, and turned his back on the dead man as though he mattered nothing.
He was puzzled to find the door of the shed open, though he had closedand latched it very carefully overnight, and he found also some dirtyplates he had not noticed before on the bench. He discovered that thehinges of the tin locker were unscrewed and that it could be opened. Hehad not observed this overnight.
"Silly of me!" said Bert. "'Ere I was puzzlin' and whackin' away at thepadlock, never noticing." It had been used apparently as an ice-chest,but it contained nothing now but the remains of half-dozen boiledchickens, some ambiguous substance that might once have been butter, anda singularly unappetising smell. He closed the lid again carefully.
He gave the kitten some milk in a dirty plate and sat watching its busylittle tongue for a time. Then he was moved to make an inventory ofthe provisions. There were six bottles of milk unopened and one opened,sixty bottles of mineral water and a large stock of syrups, about twothousand cigarettes and upwards of a hundred cigars, nine oranges,two unopened tins of corned beef and one opened, and five large tinsCalifornia peaches. He jotted it down on a piece of paper. "'Ain't muchsolid food," he said. "Still--A fortnight, say!
"Anything might happen in a fortnight."
He gave the kitten a small second helping and a scrap of beef and thenwent down with the little creature running after him, tail erect and inhigh spirits, to look at the remains of the Hohenzollern.
It had shifted in the night and seemed on the whole more firmly groundedon Green Island than before. From it his eye went to the shatteredbridge and then across to the still desolation of Niagara city. Nothingmoved over there but a number of crows. They were busy with the engineerhe had seen cut down on the previous day. He saw no dogs, but he heardone howling.
"We got to get out of this some'ow, Kitty," he said. "That milk won'tlast forever--not at the rate you lap it."
He regarded the sluice-like flood before him.
"Plenty of water," he said. "Won't be drink we shall want."
He decided to make a careful exploration of the island. Presently hecame to a locked gate labelled "Biddle Stairs," and clambered over todiscover a steep old wooden staircase leading down the face of the cliffamidst a vast and increasing uproar of waters. He left the kitten aboveand descended these, and discovered with a thrill of hope a path leadingamong the rocks at the foot of the roaring downrush of the Centre Fall.Perhaps this was a sort of way!
It led him only to the choking and deafening experience of the Cave ofthe Winds, and after he had spent a quarter of an hour in a partiallystupefied condition flattened between solid rock and nearly as solidwaterfall, he decided that this was after all no practicable route toCanada and retraced his steps. As he reascended the Biddle Stairs, heheard what he decided at last must be a sort of echo, a sound of someone walking about on the gravel paths above. When he got to the top, theplace was as solitary as before.
Thence he made his way, with the kitten skirmishing along beside himin the grass, to a staircase that led to a lump of projecting rock thatenfiladed the huge green majesty of the Horseshoe Fall. He stood therefor some time in silence.
"You wouldn't think," he said at last, "there was so much water.... Thisroarin' and splashin', it gets on one's nerves at last.... Soundslike people talking.... Sounds like people going about.... Sounds likeanything you fancy."
He retired up the staircase again. "I s'pose I shall keep on goin' roundthis blessed island," he said drearily. "Round and round and round."
He found himself presently beside the less damaged Asiatic aeroplaneagain. He stared at it and the kitten smelt it. "Broke!" he said.
He looked up with a convulsive start.
Advancing slowly towards him out from among the trees were two tallgaunt figures. They were blackened and tattered and bandaged; thehind-most one limped and had his head swathed in white, but the foremostone still carried himself as a Prince should do, for all that his leftarm was in a sling and one side of his face scalded a livid crimson. Hewas the Prince Karl Albert, the War Lord, the "German Alexander," andthe man behind him was the bird-faced man whose cabin had once beentaken from him and given to Bert.
6
With that apparition began a new phase of Goat Island in Bert'sexperience. He ceased to be a solitary representative of humanity in avast and violent and incomprehensible universe, and became once more asocial creature, a man in a world of other men. For an instant these twowere terrible, then they seemed sweet and desirable as brothers. Theytoo were in this scrape with him, marooned and puzzled. He wantedextremely to hear exactly what had happened to them. What mattered it ifone was a Prince and both were foreign soldiers, if neither perhaps hadadequate English? His native Cockney freedom flowed too generously forhim to think of that, and surely the Asiatic fleets had purged all su
chtrivial differences. "Ul-LO!" he said; "'ow did you get 'ere?"
"It is the Englishman who brought us the Butteridge machine," said thebird-faced officer in German, and then in a tone of horror, as Bertadvanced, "Salute!" and again louder, "SALUTE!"
"Gaw!" said Bert, and stopped with a second comment under his breath. Hestared and saluted awkwardly and became at once a masked defensive thingwith whom co-operation was impossible.
For a time these two perfected modern aristocrats stood regarding thedifficult problem of the Anglo-Saxon citizen, that ambiguous citizenwho, obeying some mysterious law in his blood, would neither drill norbe a democrat. Bert was by no means a beautiful object, but in someinexplicable way he looked resistant. He wore his cheap suit of serge,now showing many signs of wear, and its loose fit made him seem sturdierthan he was; above his disengaging face was a white German cap that wasaltogether too big for him, and his trousers were crumpled up his legsand their ends tucked into the rubber highlows of a deceased Germanaeronaut. He looked an inferior, though by no means an easy inferior,and instinctively they hated him.
The Prince pointed to the flying-machine and said something in brokenEnglish that Bert took for German and failed to understand. He intimatedas much.
"Dummer Kerl!" said the bird-faced officer from among his bandages.
The Prince pointed again with his undamaged hand. "You verstehen disdrachenflieger?"
Bert began to comprehend the situation. He regarded the Asiatic machine.The habits of Bun Hill returned to him. "It's a foreign make," he saidambiguously.
The two Germans consulted. "You are an expert?" said the Prince.
"We reckon to repair," said Bert, in the exact manner of Grubb.
The Prince sought in his vocabulary. "Is dat," he said, "goot to fly?"
Bert reflected and scratched his cheek slowly. "I got to look at it," hereplied.... "It's 'ad rough usage!"
He made a sound with his teeth he had also acquired from Grubb, puthis hands in his trouser pockets, and strolled back to themachine. Typically Grubb chewed something, but Bert could chew onlyimaginatively. "Three days' work in this," he said, teething. Forthe first time it dawned on him that there were possibilities in thismachine. It was evident that the wing that lay on the ground was badlydamaged. The three stays that held it rigid had snapped across a ridgeof rock and there was also a strong possibility of the engine beingbadly damaged. The wing hook on that side was also askew, but probablythat would not affect the flight. Beyond that there probably wasn't muchthe matter. Bert scratched his cheek again and contemplated the broadsunlit waste of the Upper Rapids. "We might make a job of this.... Youleave it to me."
He surveyed it intently again, and the Prince and his officer watchedhim. In Bun Hill Bert and Grubb had developed to a very high pitch amongthe hiring stock a method of repair by substituting; they substitutedbits of other machines. A machine that was too utterly and obviouslydone for even to proffer for hire, had nevertheless still capital value.It became a sort of quarry for nuts and screws and wheels, bars andspokes, chain-links and the like; a mine of ill-fitting "parts" toreplace the defects of machines still current. And back among the treeswas a second Asiatic aeroplane....
The kitten caressed Bert's airship boots unheeded.
"Mend dat drachenflieger," said the Prince.
"If I do mend it," said Bert, struck by a new thought, "none of us ain'tto be trusted to fly it."
"_I_ vill fly it," said the Prince.
"Very likely break your neck," said Bert, after a pause.
The Prince did not understand him and disregarded what he said. Hepointed his gloved finger to the machine and turned to the bird-facedofficer with some remark in German. The officer answered and the Princeresponded with a sweeping gesture towards the sky. Then he spoke--itseemed eloquently. Bert watched him and guessed his meaning. "Much morelikely to break your neck," he said. "'Owever. 'Ere goes."
He began to pry about the saddle and engine of the drachenflieger insearch for tools. Also he wanted some black oily stuff for his hands andface. For the first rule in the art of repairing, as it was known to thefirm of Grubb and Smallways, was to get your hands and face thoroughlyand conclusively blackened. Also he took off his jacket and waistcoatand put his cap carefully to the back of his head in order to facilitatescratching.
The Prince and the officer seemed disposed to watch him, but hesucceeded in making it clear to them that this would inconvenience himand that he had to "puzzle out a bit" before he could get to work. Theythought him over, but his shop experience had given him something of theauthoritative way of the expert with common men. And at last theywent away. Thereupon he went straight to the second aeroplane, got theaeronaut's gun and ammunition and hid them in a clump of nettles closeat hand. "That's all right," said Bert, and then proceeded to a carefulinspection of the debris of the wings in the trees. Then he went backto the first aeroplane to compare the two. The Bun Hill method was quitepossibly practicable if there was nothing hopeless or incomprehensiblein the engine.
The Germans returned presently to find him already generously smutty andtouching and testing knobs and screws and levers with an expression ofprofound sagacity. When the bird-faced officer addressed a remark tohim, he waved him aside with, "Nong comprong. Shut it! It's no good."
Then he had an idea. "Dead chap back there wants burying," he said,jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
7
With the appearance of these two men Bert's whole universe had changedagain. A curtain fell before the immense and terrible desolation thathad overwhelmed him. He was in a world of three people, a minute humanworld that nevertheless filled his brain with eager speculations andschemes and cunning ideas. What were they thinking of? What didthey think of him? What did they mean to do? A hundred busy threadsinterlaced in his mind as he pottered studiously over the Asiaticaeroplane. New ideas came up like bubbles in soda water.
"Gaw!" he said suddenly. He had just appreciated as a special aspect ofthis irrational injustice of fate that these two men were alive and thatKurt was dead. All the crew of the Hohenzollern were shot or burnt orsmashed or drowned, and these two lurking in the padded forward cabinhad escaped.
"I suppose 'e thinks it's 'is bloomin' Star," he muttered, and foundhimself uncontrollably exasperated.
He stood up, facing round to the two men. They were standing side byside regarding him.
"'It's no good," he said, "starin' at me. You only put me out." Andthen seeing they did not understand, he advanced towards them, wrench inhand. It occurred to him as he did so that the Prince was really a verybig and powerful and serene-looking person. But he said, nevertheless,pointing through the trees, "dead man!"
The bird-faced man intervened with a reply in German.
"Dead man!" said Bert to him. "There."
He had great difficulty in inducing them to inspect the dead Chinaman,and at last led them to him. Then they made it evident that theyproposed that he, as a common person below the rank of officer shouldhave the sole and undivided privilege of disposing of the body bydragging it to the water's edge. There was some heated gesticulation,and at last the bird-faced officer abased himself to help. Together theydragged the limp and now swollen Asiatic through the trees, and aftera rest or so--for he trailed very heavily--dumped him into the westwardrapid. Bert returned to his expert investigation of the flying-machineat last with aching arms and in a state of gloomy rebellion. "Brastedcheek!" he said. "One'd think I was one of 'is beastly German slaves!
"Prancing beggar!"
And then he fell speculating what would happen when the flying-machine,was repaired--if it could be repaired.
The two Germans went away again, and after some reflection Bert removedseveral nuts, resumed his jacket and vest, pocketed those nuts and histools and hid the set of tools from the second aeroplane in the fork ofa tree. "Right O," he said, as he jumped down after the last of theseprecautions. The Prince and his companion reappeared as he returned tothe machine by the water's edge. The
Prince surveyed his progress fora time, and then went towards the Parting of the Waters and stood withfolded arms gazing upstream in profound thought. The bird-faced officercame up to Bert, heavy with a sentence in English.
"Go," he said with a helping gesture, "und eat."
When Bert got to the refreshment shed, he found all the food hadvanished except one measured ration of corned beef and three biscuits.
He regarded this with open eyes and mouth.
The kitten appeared from under the vendor's seat with an ingratiatingpurr. "Of course!" said Bert. "Why! where's your milk?"
He accumulated wrath for a moment or so, then seized the plate in onehand, and the biscuits in another, and went in search of the Prince,breathing vile words anent "grub" and his intimate interior. Heapproached without saluting.
"'Ere!" he said fiercely. "Whad the devil's this?"
An entirely unsatisfactory altercation followed. Bert expounded theBun Hill theory of the relations of grub to efficiency in English,the bird-faced man replied with points about nations and disciplinein German. The Prince, having made an estimate of Bert's quality andphysique, suddenly hectored. He gripped Bert by the shoulder and shookhim, making his pockets rattle, shouted something to him, and flung himstruggling back. He hit him as though he was a German private. Bert wentback, white and scared, but resolved by all his Cockney standards uponone thing. He was bound in honour to "go for" the Prince. "Gaw!" hegasped, buttoning his jacket.
"Now," cried the Prince, "Vil you go?" and then catching the heroicgleam in Bert's eye, drew his sword.
The bird-faced officer intervened, saying something in German andpointing skyward.
Far away in the southwest appeared a Japanese airship coming fast towardthem. Their conflict ended at that. The Prince was first to grasp thesituation and lead the retreat. All three scuttled like rabbits for thetrees, and ran to and for cover until they found a hollow in whichthe grass grew rank. There they all squatted within six yards of oneanother. They sat in this place for a long time, up to their necks inthe grass and watching through the branches for the airship. Bert haddropped some of his corned beef, but he found the biscuits in his handand ate them quietly. The monster came nearly overhead and then wentaway to Niagara and dropped beyond the power-works. When it was near,they all kept silence, and then presently they fell into an argumentthat was robbed perhaps of immediate explosive effect only by theirfailure to understand one another.
It was Bert began the talking and he talked on regardless of what theyunderstood or failed to understand. But his voice must have conveyed hiscantankerous intentions.
"You want that machine done," he said first, "you better keep your 'andsoff me!"
They disregarded that and he repeated it.
Then he expanded his idea and the spirit of speech took hold of him."You think you got 'old of a chap you can kick and 'it like you do yourprivate soldiers--you're jolly well mistaken. See? I've 'ad about enoughof you and your antics. I been thinking you over, you and your war andyour Empire and all the rot of it. Rot it is! It's you Germans made allthe trouble in Europe first and last. And all for nothin'. Jest sillyprancing! Jest because you've got the uniforms and flags! 'Ere I was--Ididn't want to 'ave anything to do with you. I jest didn't care a 'engat all about you. Then you get 'old of me--steal me practically--and'ere I am, thousands of miles away from 'ome and everything, and allyour silly fleet smashed up to rags. And you want to go on prancin' NOW!Not if 'I know it!
"Look at the mischief you done! Look at the way you smashed up NewYork--the people you killed, the stuff you wasted. Can't you learn?"
"Dummer Kerl!" said the bird-faced man suddenly in a tone ofconcentrated malignancy, glaring under his bandages. "Esel!"
"That's German for silly ass!--I know. But who's the silly ass--'imor me? When I was a kid, I used to read penny dreadfuls about 'avinadventures and bein' a great c'mander and all that rot. I stowed it. Butwhat's 'e got in 'is head? Rot about Napoleon, rot about Alexander, rotabout 'is blessed family and 'im and Gord and David and all that. Anyone who wasn't a dressed-up silly fool of a Prince could 'ave told allthis was goin' to 'appen. There was us in Europe all at sixes and sevenswith our silly flags and our silly newspapers raggin' us up against eachother and keepin' us apart, and there was China, solid as a cheese, withmillions and millions of men only wantin' a bit of science and a bit ofenterprise to be as good as all of us. You thought they couldn't get atyou. And then they got flying-machines. And bif!--'ere we are. Why, whenthey didn't go on making guns and armies in China, we went and poked 'emup until they did. They 'AD to give us this lickin' they've give us. Wewouldn't be happy until they did, and as I say, 'ere we are!"
The bird-faced officer shouted to him to be quiet, and then began aconversation with the Prince.
"British citizen," said Bert. "You ain't obliged to listen, but I ain'tobliged to shut up."
And for some time he continued his dissertation upon Imperialism,militarism, and international politics. But their talking put himout, and for a time he was certainly merely repeating abusive terms,"prancin' nincompoops" and the like, old terms and new. Then suddenlyhe remembered his essential grievance. "'Owever, look 'ere--'ere!--thething I started this talk about is where's that food there was in thatshed? That's what I want to know. Where you put it?"
He paused. They went on talking in German. He repeated his question.They disregarded him. He asked a third time in a manner insupportablyaggressive.
There fell a tense silence. For some seconds the three regarded oneanother. The Prince eyed Bert steadfastly, and Bert quailed under hiseye. Slowly the Prince rose to his feet and the bird-faced officerjerked up beside him. Bert remained squatting.
"Be quaiat," said the Prince.
Bert perceived this was no moment for eloquence.
The two Germans regarded him as he crouched there. Death for a momentseemed near.
Then the Prince turned away and the two of them went towards theflying-machine.
"Gaw!" whispered Bert, and then uttered under his breath one single wordof abuse. He sat crouched together for perhaps three minutes, thenhe sprang to his feet and went off towards the Chinese aeronaut's gunhidden among the weeds.
8
There was no pretence after that moment that Bert was under theorders of the Prince or that he was going on with the repairing of theflying-machine. The two Germans took possession of that and set to workupon it. Bert, with his new weapon went off to the neighbourhood ofTerrapin Rock, and there sat down to examine it. It was a short riflewith a big cartridge, and a nearly full magazine. He took out thecartridges carefully and then tried the trigger and fittings untilhe felt sure he had the use of it. He reloaded carefully. Then heremembered he was hungry and went off, gun under his arm, to hunt in andabout the refreshment shed. He had the sense to perceive that he mustnot show himself with the gun to the Prince and his companion. So longas they thought him unarmed they would leave him alone, but there wasno knowing what the Napoleonic person might do if he saw Bert's weapon.Also he did not go near them because he knew that within himself boileda reservoir of rage and fear that he wanted to shoot these two men. Hewanted to shoot them, and he thought that to shoot them would be a quitehorrible thing to do. The two sides of his inconsistent civilisationwarred within him.
Near the shed the kitten turned up again, obviously keen for milk. Thisgreatly enhanced his own angry sense of hunger. He began to talk as hehunted about, and presently stood still, shouting insults. He talked ofwar and pride and Imperialism. "Any other Prince but you would have diedwith his men and his ship!" he cried.
The two Germans at the machine heard his voice going ever and againamidst the clamour of the waters. Their eyes met and they smiledslightly.
He was disposed for a time to sit in the refreshment shed waiting forthem, but then it occurred to him that so he might get them both atclose quarters. He strolled off presently to the point of Luna Island tothink the situation out.
It had seemed a comparatively
simple one at first, but as he turned itover in his mind its possibilities increased and multiplied. Both thesemen had swords,--had either a revolver?
Also, if he shot them both, he might never find the food!
So far he had been going about with this gun under his arm, and a senseof lordly security in his mind, but what if they saw the gun and decidedto ambush him? Goat Island is nearly all cover, trees, rocks, thickets,and irregularities.
Why not go and murder them both now?
"I carn't," said Bert, dismissing that. "I got to be worked up."
But it was a mistake to get right away from them. That suddenly becameclear. He ought to keep them under observation, ought to "scout" them.Then he would be able to see what they were doing, whether either ofthem had a revolver, where they had hidden the food. He would be betterable to determine what they meant to do to him. If he didn't "scout"them, presently they would begin to "scout" him. This seemed soeminently reasonable that he acted upon it forthwith. He thought overhis costume and threw his collar and the tell-tale aeronaut's white capinto the water far below. He turned his coat collar up to hide any gleamof his dirty shirt. The tools and nuts in his pockets were disposedto clank, but he rearranged them and wrapped some letters and hispocket-handkerchief about them. He started off circumspectly andnoiselessly, listening and peering at every step. As he drew nearhis antagonists, much grunting and creaking served to locate them. Hediscovered them engaged in what looked like a wrestling match with theAsiatic flying-machine. Their coats were off, their swords laid aside,they were working magnificently. Apparently they were turning it roundand were having a good deal of difficulty with the long tail among thetrees. He dropped flat at the sight of them and wriggled into a littlehollow, and so lay watching their exertions. Ever and again, to pass thetime, he would cover one or other of them with his gun.
He found them quite interesting to watch, so interesting that at timeshe came near shouting to advise them. He perceived that when they hadthe machine turned round, they would then be in immediate want of thenuts and tools he carried. Then they would come after him. They wouldcertainly conclude he had them or had hidden them. Should he hide hisgun and do a deal for food with these tools? He felt he would not beable to part with the gun again now he had once felt its reassuringcompany. The kitten turned up again and made a great fuss with him andlicked and bit his ear.
The sun clambered to midday, and once that morning he saw, though theGermans did not, an Asiatic airship very far to the south, going swiftlyeastward.
At last the flying-machine was turned and stood poised on its wheel,with its hooks pointing up the Rapids. The two officers wiped theirfaces, resumed jackets and swords, spoke and bore themselves like menwho congratulated themselves on a good laborious morning. Then theywent off briskly towards the refreshment shed, the Prince leading.Bert became active in pursuit; but he found it impossible to stalk themquickly enough and silently enough to discover the hiding-place of thefood. He found them, when he came into sight of them again, seated withtheir backs against the shed, plates on knee, and a tin of corned beefand a plateful of biscuits between them. They seemed in fairly goodspirits, and once the Prince laughed. At this vision of eating Bert'splans gave way. Fierce hunger carried him. He appeared before themsuddenly at a distance of perhaps twenty yards, gun in hand.
"'Ands up!" he said in a hard, ferocious voice.
The Prince hesitated, and then up went two pairs of hands. The gun hadsurprised them both completely.
"Stand up," said Bert.... "Drop that fork!"
They obeyed again.
"What nex'?" said Bert to himself. "'Orf stage, I suppose. That way," hesaid. "Go!"
The Prince obeyed with remarkable alacrity. When he reached the head ofthe clearing, he said something quickly to the bird-faced man and theyboth, with an entire lack of dignity, RAN!
Bert was struck with an exasperating afterthought.
"Gord!" he cried with infinite vexation. "Why! I ought to 'ave tooktheir swords! 'Ere!"
But the Germans were already out of sight, and no doubt taking coveramong the trees. Bert fell back upon imprecations, then he went up tothe shed, cursorily examined the possibility of a flank attack, put hisgun handy, and set to work, with a convulsive listening pause beforeeach mouthful on the Prince's plate of corned beef. He had finished thatup and handed its gleanings to the kitten and he was falling-to on thesecond plateful, when the plate broke in his hand! He stared, with thefact slowly creeping upon him that an instant before he had heard acrack among the thickets. Then he sprang to his feet, snatched up hisgun in one hand and the tin of corned beef in the other, and fled roundthe shed to the other side of the clearing. As he did so came a secondcrack from the thickets, and something went phwit! by his ear.
He didn't stop running until he was in what seemed to him a stronglydefensible position near Luna Island. Then he took cover, panting, andcrouched expectant.
"They got a revolver after all!" he panted....
"Wonder if they got two? If they 'ave--Gord! I'm done!
"Where's the kitten? Finishin' up that corned beef, I suppose. Littlebeggar!"
9
So it was that war began upon Goat Island. It lasted a day and a night,the longest day and the longest night in Bert's life. He had to lieclose and listen and watch. Also he had to scheme what he should do. Itwas clear now that he had to kill these two men if he could, and that ifthey could, they would kill him. The prize was first food and then theflying-machine and the doubtful privilege of trying' to ride it. If onefailed, one would certainly be killed; if one succeeded, one would getaway somewhere over there. For a time Bert tried to imagine what itwas like over there. His mind ran over possibilities, deserts, angryAmericans, Japanese, Chinese--perhaps Red Indians! (Were there still RedIndians?)
"Got to take what comes," said Bert. "No way out of it that I can see!"
Was that voices? He realised that his attention was wandering. For atime all his senses were very alert. The uproar of the Falls was veryconfusing, and it mixed in all sorts of sounds, like feet walking, likevoices talking, like shouts and cries.
"Silly great catarac'," said Bert. "There ain't no sense in it, fallin'and fallin'."
Never mind that, now! What were the Germans doing?
Would they go back to the flying-machine? They couldn't do anything withit, because he had those nuts and screws and the wrench and other tools.But suppose they found the second set of tools he had hidden in a tree!He had hidden the things well, of course, but they MIGHT find them.One wasn't sure, of course--one wasn't sure. He tried to remember justexactly how he had hidden those tools. He tried to persuade himself theywere certainly and surely hidden, but his memory began to play antics.Had he really left the handle of the wrench sticking out, shining out atthe fork of the branch?
Ssh! What was that? Some one stirring in those bushes? Up went anexpectant muzzle. No! Where was the kitten? No! It was just imagination,not even the kitten.
The Germans would certainly miss and hunt about for the tools and nutsand screws he carried in his pockets; that was clear. Then they woulddecide he had them and come for him. He had only to remain still undercover, therefore, and he would get them. Was there any flaw in that?Would they take off more removable parts of the flying-machine and thenlie up for him? No, they wouldn't do that, because they were two toone; they would have no apprehension of his getting off in theflying-machine, and no sound reason for supposing he would approach it,and so they would do nothing to damage or disable it. That he decidedwas clear. But suppose they lay up for him by the food. Well, that theywouldn't do, because they would know he had this corned beef; there wasenough in this can to last, with moderation, several days. Of coursethey might try to tire him out instead of attacking him--
He roused himself with a start. He had just grasped the real weakness ofhis position. He might go to sleep!
It needed but ten minutes under the suggestion of that idea, before herealised that he was going to sleep!
/> He rubbed his eyes and handled his gun. He had never before realised theintensely soporific effect of the American sun, of the American air, thedrowsy, sleep-compelling uproar of Niagara. Hitherto these things had onthe whole seemed stimulating....
If he had not eaten so much and eaten it so fast, he would not be soheavy. Are vegetarians always bright?...
He roused himself with a jerk again.
If he didn't do something, he would fall asleep, and if he fell asleep,it was ten to one they would find him snoring, and finish him forthwith.If he sat motionless and noiseless, he would inevitably sleep. It wasbetter, he told himself, to take even the risks of attacking than that.This sleep trouble, he felt, was going to beat him, must beat him inthe end. They were all right; one could sleep and the other could watch.That, come to think of it, was what they would always do; one would doanything they wanted done, the other would lie under cover near at hand,ready to shoot. They might even trap him like that. One might act as adecoy.
That set him thinking of decoys. What a fool he had been to throw hiscap away. It would have been invaluable on a stick--especially at night.
He found himself wishing for a drink. He settled that for a time byputting a pebble in his mouth. And then the sleep craving returned.
It became clear to him he must attack. Like many great generals beforehim, he found his baggage, that is to say his tin of corned beef, aserious impediment to mobility. At last he decided to put the beefloose in his pocket and abandon the tin. It was not perhaps an idealarrangement, but one must make sacrifices when one is campaigning. Hecrawled perhaps ten yards, and then for a time the possibilities of thesituation paralysed him.
The afternoon was still. The roar of the cataract simply threw up thatimmense stillness in relief. He was doing his best to contrive thedeath of two better men than himself. Also they were doing their best tocontrive his. What, behind this silence, were they doing.
Suppose he came upon them suddenly and fired, and missed?
10
He crawled, and halted listening, and crawled again until nightfall, andno doubt the German Alexander and his lieutenant did the same. A largescale map of Goat Island marked with red and blue lines to show thesestrategic movements would no doubt have displayed much interlacing, butas a matter of fact neither side saw anything of the other throughoutthat age-long day of tedious alertness. Bert never knew how near he gotto them nor how far he kept from them. Night found him no longer sleepy,but athirst, and near the American Fall. He was inspired by the ideathat his antagonists might be in the wreckage of the Hohenzollern cabinsthat was jammed against Green Island. He became enterprising, broke fromany attempt to conceal himself, and went across the little bridge at thedouble. He found nobody. It was his first visit to these huge fragmentsof airships, and for a time he explored them curiously in the dimlight. He discovered the forward cabin was nearly intact, with its doorslanting downward and a corner under water. He crept in, drank, and thenwas struck by the brilliant idea of shutting the door and sleeping onit.
But now he could not sleep at all.
He nodded towards morning and woke up to find it fully day. Hebreakfasted on corned beef and water, and sat for a long timeappreciative of the security of his position. At last he becameenterprising and bold. He would, he decided, settle this businessforthwith, one way or the other. He was tired of all this crawling. Heset out in the morning sunshine, gun in hand, scarcely troubling to walksoftly. He went round the refreshment shed without finding any one,and then through the trees towards the flying-machine. He came upon thebird-faced man sitting on the ground with his back against a tree, bentup over his folded arms, sleeping, his bandage very much over one eye.
Bert stopped abruptly and stood perhaps fifteen yards away, gun in handready. Where was the Prince? Then, sticking out at the side of the treebeyond, he saw a shoulder. Bert took five deliberate paces to the left.The great man became visible, leaning up against the trunk, pistol inone hand and sword in the other, and yawning--yawning. You can't shoota yawning man Bert found. He advanced upon his antagonist with hisgun levelled, some foolish fancy of "hands up" in his mind. The Princebecame aware of him, the yawning mouth shut like a trap and he stoodstiffly up. Bert stopped, silent. For a moment the two regarded oneanother.
Had the Prince been a wise man he would, I suppose, have dodged behindthe tree. Instead, he gave vent to a shout, and raised pistol and sword.At that, like an automaton, Bert pulled his trigger.
It was his first experience of an oxygen-containing bullet. A greatflame spurted from the middle of the Prince, a blinding flare, andthere came a thud like the firing of a gun. Something hot and wet struckBert's face. Then through a whirl of blinding smoke and steam he sawlimbs and a collapsing, burst body fling themselves to earth.
Bert was so astonished that he stood agape, and the bird-faced officermight have cut him to the earth without a struggle. But instead thebird-faced officer was running away through the undergrowth, dodging ashe went. Bert roused himself to a brief ineffectual pursuit, but he hadno stomach for further killing. He returned to the mangled, scatteredthing that had so recently been the great Prince Karl Albert. Hesurveyed the scorched and splashed vegetation about it. He made somespeculative identifications. He advanced gingerly and picked up the hotrevolver, to find all its chambers strained and burst. He became awareof a cheerful and friendly presence. He was greatly shocked that one soyoung should see so frightful a scene.
"'Ere, Kitty," he said, "this ain't no place for you."
He made three strides across the devastated area, captured the kittenneatly, and went his way towards the shed, with her purring loudly onhis shoulder.
"YOU don't seem to mind," he said.
For a time he fussed about the shed, and at last discovered the restof the provisions hidden in the roof. "Seems 'ard," he said, as headministered a saucerful of milk, "when you get three men in a 'ole likethis, they can't work together. But 'im and 'is princing was jest a bittoo thick!"
"Gaw!" he reflected, sitting on the counter and eating, "what a thinglife is! 'Ere am I; I seen 'is picture, 'eard 'is name since I was a kidin frocks. Prince Karl Albert! And if any one 'ad tole me I was going toblow 'im to smithereens--there! I shouldn't 'ave believed it, Kitty.
"That chap at Margit ought to 'ave tole me about it. All 'e tole me wasthat I got a weak chess.
"That other chap, 'e ain't going to do much. Wonder what I ought to doabout 'im?"
He surveyed the trees with a keen blue eye and fingered the gun on hisknee. "I don't like this killing, Kitty," he said. "It's like Kurt saidabout being blooded. Seems to me you got to be blooded young.... Ifthat Prince 'ad come up to me and said, 'Shake 'ands!' I'd 'ave shook'ands.... Now 'ere's that other chap, dodging about! 'E's got 'is 'ead'urt already, and there's something wrong with his leg. And burns.Golly! it isn't three weeks ago I first set eyes on 'im, and then 'e wassmart and set up--'ands full of 'air-brushes and things, and swearin' atme. A regular gentleman! Now 'e's 'arfway to a wild man. What am I to dowith 'im? What the 'ell am I to do with 'im? I can't leave 'im 'ave thatflying-machine; that's a bit too good, and if I don't kill 'im, 'e'lljest 'ang about this island and starve....
"'E's got a sword, of course"....
He resumed his philosophising after he had lit a cigarette.
"War's a silly gaim, Kitty. It's a silly gaim! We common people--we werefools. We thought those big people knew what they were up to--and theydidn't. Look at that chap! 'E 'ad all Germany be'ind 'im, and what 'as'e made of it? Smeshin' and blunderin' and destroyin', and there 'e 'is!Jest a mess of blood and boots and things! Jest an 'orrid splash! PrinceKarl Albert! And all the men 'e led and the ships 'e 'ad, the airships,and the dragon-fliers--all scattered like a paper-chase between this'ole and Germany. And fightin' going on and burnin' and killin' that 'estarted, war without end all over the world!
"I suppose I shall 'ave to kill that other chap. I suppose I must. Butit ain't at all the sort of job I fancy, Kitty!"
For
a time he hunted about the island amidst the uproar of thewaterfall, looking for the wounded officer, and at last he started himout of some bushes near the head of Biddle Stairs. But as he saw thebent and bandaged figure in limping flight before him, he found hisCockney softness too much for him again; he could neither shoot norpursue. "I carn't," he said, "that's flat. I 'aven't the guts for it!'E'll 'ave to go."
He turned his steps towards the flying-machine....
He never saw the bird-faced officer again, nor any further evidence ofhis presence. Towards evening he grew fearful of ambushes and huntedvigorously for an hour or so, but in vain. He slept in a good defensibleposition at the extremity of the rocky point that runs out to theCanadian Fall, and in the night he woke in panic terror and fired hisgun. But it was nothing. He slept no more that night. In the morning hebecame curiously concerned for the vanished man, and hunted for him asone might for an erring brother.
"If I knew some German," he said, "I'd 'oller. It's jest not knowingGerman does it. You can't explain'"
He discovered, later, traces of an attempt to cross the gap in thebroken bridge. A rope with a bolt attached had been flung across and hadcaught in a fenestration of a projecting fragment of railing. The end ofthe rope trailed in the seething water towards the fall.
But the bird-faced officer was already rubbing shoulders with certaininert matter that had once been Lieutenant Kurt and the Chinese aeronautand a dead cow, and much other uncongenial company, in the huge circleof the Whirlpool two and a quarter miles away. Never had that greatgathering place, that incessant, aimless, unprogressive hurry ofwaste and battered things, been so crowded with strange and melancholyderelicts. Round they went and round, and every day brought itsnew contributions, luckless brutes, shattered fragments of boat andflying-machine, endless citizens from the cities upon the shores of thegreat lakes above. Much came from Cleveland. It all gathered here, andwhirled about indefinitely, and over it all gathered daily a greaterabundance of birds.
