The Mucker

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  CHAPTER XVI. THE SUPREME SACRIFICE

  THROUGH the balance of the day and all during the long night Billy Byrneswung along his lonely way, retracing the familiar steps of the journeythat had brought Barbara Harding and himself to the little island in theturbulent river.

  Just before dawn he came to the edge of the clearing behind the dwellingof the late Oda Yorimoto. Somewhere within the silent village he wassure that the two prisoners lay.

  During the long march he had thrashed over again and again all that thesuccess of his rash venture would mean to him. Of all those who mightconceivably stand between him and the woman he loved--the woman who hadjust acknowledged that she loved him--these two men were the most to befeared.

  Billy Byrne did not for a moment believe that Anthony Harding would lookwith favor upon the Grand Avenue mucker as a prospective son-in-law. Andthen there was Mallory! He was sure that Barbara had loved this man, andnow should he be restored to her as from the grave there seemed littledoubt but that the old love would be aroused in the girl's breast. Thetruth of the matter was that Billy Byrne could not conceive the truth ofthe testimony of his own ears--even now he scarce dared believe that thewonderful Miss Harding loved him--him, the despised mucker!

  But the depth of the man's love for the girl, and the genuineness ofhis new-found character were proven beyond question by the relentlessseverity with which he put away every thought of himself and theconsequences to him in the matter he had undertaken.

  FOR HER SAKE! had become his slogan. What though the results sent himto a savage death, or to a life of lonely misery, or to the arms of hisbeloved! In the face of duty the result was all the same to Billy Byrne.

  For a moment he stood looking at the moon-bathed village, listening forany sign of wakefulness or life, then with all the stealth of an Indian,and with the trained wariness of the thief that he had been, the muckerslunk noiselessly across the clearing to the shadows of the nearest hut.

  He listened beneath the window through which he and Barbara and Therierehad made their escape a few weeks before. There was no sound fromwithin. Cautiously he raised himself to the sill, and a moment laterdropped into the inky darkness of the interior.

  With groping hands he felt about the room--it was unoccupied. Thenhe passed to the door at the far end. Cautiously he opened it until anarrow crack gave him a view of the dimly lighted chamber beyond. Withinall seemed asleep. The mucker pushed the door still further open andstepped within--so must he search every hut within the village until hehad found those he sought?

  They were not there, and on silent feet that disturbed not even thelightly slumbering curs the man passed out by the front entrance intothe street beyond.

  Through a second and third hut he made his precarious way. In the fourtha man stirred as Byrne stood upon the opposite side of the room from thedoor--with a catlike bound the mucker was beside him. Would the fellowawake? Billy scarce breathed. The samurai turned restlessly, and then,with a start, sat up with wide-open eyes. At the same instant ironfingers closed upon his throat and the long sword of his dead daimiopassed through his heart.

  Byrne held the corpse until he was positive that life was extinct, thenhe dropped it quietly back upon its pallet, and departed to search theadjoining dwelling. Here he found a large front room, and a smallerchamber in the rear--an arrangement similar to that in the daimio'shouse.

  The front room revealed no clue to the missing men. Within the smaller,rear room Byrne heard the subdued hum of whispered conversation just ashe was about to open the door. Like a graven image he stood in silence,his ear glued to the frail door. For a moment he listened thus and thenhis heart gave a throb of exultation, and he could have shouted aloud inthanksgiving--the men were conversing in English!

  Quietly Byrne pushed open the door far enough to admit his body. Thosewithin ceased speaking immediately. Byrne closed the door behind him,advancing until he felt one of the occupants of the room. The man shrankfrom his touch.

  "I guess we're done for, Mallory," said the man in a low tone; "they'vecome for us."

  "Sh-sh," warned the mucker. "Are you and Mallory alone?"

  "Yes--for God's sake who are you and where did you come from?" asked thesurprised Mr. Harding.

  "Be still," admonished Byrne, feeling for the cords that he knew mustbind the captive.

  He found them presently and with his jackknife cut them asunder. Then hereleased Mallory.

  "Follow me," he said, "but go quietly. Take off your shoes if youhave 'em on, and hang 'em around your neck--tie the ends of the lacestogether."

  The men did as he bid and a moment later he was leading them across theroom, filled with sleeping men, women, children, and domestic animals.At the far side stood a rack filled with long swords. Byrne removed twowithout the faintest suspicion of a noise. He handed one to each of hiscompanions, cautioning them to silence with a gesture.

  But neither Anthony Harding nor Billy Mallory had had second-storyexperience, and the former struck his weapon accidentally against thedoor frame with a resounding clatter that brought half the inmatesof the room, wide-eyed, to sitting postures. The sight that met thenatives' eyes had them on their feet, yelling like madmen, and dashingtoward their escaping prisoners, in an instant.

  "Quick!" shouted Billy Byrne. "Follow me!"

  Down the village street the three men ran, but the shouts of thenatives had brought armed samurai to every door with a celerity that wasuncanny, and in another moment the fugitives found themselves surroundedby a pack of howling warriors who cut at them with long swords fromevery side, blocking their retreat and hemming them in in everydirection.

  Byrne called to his companions to close in, back to back, and thus, thegangster in advance, the three slowly fought their way toward the end ofthe narrow street and the jungle beyond. The mucker fought with his longsword in one hand and Theriere's revolver in the other--hewing a waytoward freedom for the two men whom he knew would take his love fromhim.

  Beneath the brilliant tropic moon that lighted the scene almost asbrilliantly as might the sun himself the battle waged, and though theodds were painfully uneven the white men moved steadily, though slowly,toward the jungle. It was evident that the natives feared the giantwhite who led the three. Anthony Harding, familiar with Japanese, couldtranslate sufficient of their jargon to be sure of that, had not therespectful distance most of them kept from Byrne been ample proof.

  Out of the village street they came at last into the clearing. Thewarriors danced about them, yelling threats and taunts the while theymade occasional dashes to close quarters that they might deliver a swiftsword cut and retreat again before the great white devil could get themwith the sword that had been Oda Yorimoto's, or the strange fire stickthat spoke in such a terrifying voice.

  Fifty feet from the jungle Mallory went down with a spear through thecalf of his leg. Byrne saw him fall, and dropping back lifted the man tohis feet, supporting him with one arm as the two backed slowly in frontof the onpressing natives.

  The spears were flying thick and fast now, for the samurai all were uponthe same side of the enemy and there was no danger of injuring one oftheir own number with their flying weapons as there had been when thehost entirely surrounded the three men, and when the whites at lastentered the tall grasses of the jungle a perfect shower of spearsfollowed them.

  With the volley Byrne went down--he had been the principal target forthe samurai and three of the heavy shafts had pierced his body. Two wereburied in his chest and one in his abdomen.

  Anthony Harding was horrified. Both his companions were down, and thesavages were pressing closely on toward their hiding place. Mallory satupon the ground trying to tear the spear from his leg. Finally he wassuccessful. Byrne, still conscious, called to Harding to pull the threeshafts from him.

  "What are we to do?" cried the older man. "They will get us again assure as fate."

  "They haven't got us yet," said Billy. "Wait, I got a scheme. Can youwalk, Mallory?"

  Mallory
staggered to his feet.

  "I'll see," he said, and then: "Yes, I can make it."

  "Good," exclaimed Byrne. "Now listen. Almost due north, across thisrange of hills behind us is a valley. In the center of the valley isa river. It is a good fifteen-hour march for a well man--it will takeMallory and you longer. Follow down the river till you come to a littleisland--it should be the first one from where you strike the river. Onthat island you will find Miss Harding, Norris, and Foster. Now hurry."

  "But you, man!" exclaimed Mallory. "We can't leave you."

  "Never!" said Anthony Harding.

  "You'll have to, though," replied Billy. "That's part of the scheme.It won't work any other way." He raised his revolver and fired a singleshot in the direction of the howling savages. "That's to let 'em knowwe're still here," he said. "I'll keep that up, off and on, as long asI can. It'll fool 'em into thinking that we're all here, and cover yourescape. See?"

  "I won't do it," said Mallory.

  "Yes you will," replied the mucker. "It's not any of us thatcounts--it's Miss Harding. As many as can have got to get back to herjust as quick as the Lord'll let us. I can't, so you two'll have to. I'mdone for--a blind man could see that. It wouldn't do a bit of good foryou two to hang around here and get killed, waitin' for me to die; butit would do a lot of harm, for it might mean that Miss Harding would belost too."

  "You say my daughter is on this island you speak of, with Norris andFoster--is she quite safe and well?" asked Harding.

  "Perfectly," said Byrne; "and now beat it--you're wasting a lot ofprecious time."

  "For Barbara's sake it looks like the only way," said Anthony Harding,"but it seems wicked and cowardly to desert a noble fellow like you,sir."

  "It is wicked," said Billy Mallory. "There must be some other way.By the way, old man, who are you anyhow, and how did you happen to behere?"

  Byrne turned his face upward so that the full moon lighted his featuresclearly.

  "There is no other way, Mallory," he said. "Now take a good look atme--don't you recognize me?"

  Mallory gazed intently at the strong face looking into his. He shook hishead.

  "There is something familiar about your face," he said; "but I cannotplace you. Nor does it make any difference who you are--you have riskedyour life to save ours and I shall not leave you. Let Mr. Harding go--itis not necessary for both to stay."

  "You will both go," insisted Byrne; "and you will find that it doesmake a big difference who I am. I hadn't intended telling you, but I seethere is no other way. I'm the mucker that nearly killed you on boardthe Lotus, Mallory. I'm the fellow that man-handled Miss Harding untileven that beast of a Simms made me quit, and Miss Harding has been alonewith me on this island for weeks--now go!"

  He turned away so that they could no longer see his face, with themental anguish that he knew must be writ large upon it, and commencedfiring toward the natives once more.

  Anthony Harding stood with white face and clinched hands during Byrne'srecital of his identity. At its close he took a threatening step towardthe prostrate man, raising his long sword, with a muffled oath. BillyMallory sprang before him, catching his upraised arm.

  "Don't!" he whispered. "Think what we owe him now. Come!" and the twomen turned north into the jungle while Billy Byrne lay upon his bellyin the tall grass firing from time to time into the direction from whichcame an occasional spear.

  Anthony Harding and Billy Mallory kept on in silence along their dismalway. The crack of the mucker's revolver, growing fainter and fainter, asthey drew away from the scene of conflict, apprised the men that theirrescuer still lived.

  After a time the distant reports ceased. The two walked on in silencefor a few minutes.

  "He's gone," whispered Mallory.

  Anthony Harding made no response. They did not hear any further firingbehind them. On and on they trudged. Night turned to day. Day rolledslowly on into night once more. And still they staggered on, footsoreand weary. Mallory suffered excruciating agony from his wound. Therewere times when it seemed that it would be impossible for him tocontinue another yard; but then the thought that Barbara Harding wassomewhere ahead of them, and that in a short time now they must be withher once more kept him doggedly at his painful task.

  They had reached the river and were following slowly down its bank. Themoon, full and gorgeous, flooded the landscape with silvery light.

  "Look!" exclaimed Mallory. "The island!"

  "Thank God!" whispered Harding, fervently.

  On the bank opposite they stopped and hallooed. Almost instantly threefigures rushed from the interior of the island to the shore beforethem--two men and a woman.

  "Barbara!" cried Anthony Harding. "O my daughter! My daughter!"

  Norris and Foster hastened through the river and brought the two mento the island. Barbara Harding threw herself into her father's arms. Amoment later she had grasped Mallory's outstretched hands, and then shelooked beyond them for another.

  "Mr. Byrne?" she asked. "Where is Mr. Byrne?"

  "He is dead," said Anthony Harding.

  The girl looked, wide-eyed and uncomprehending, at her father for a fullminute.

  "Dead!" she moaned, and fell unconscious at his feet.