by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER XIII CRUSOES FOR A NIGHT
As the three companions, Johnny, Doris and Nieta sat upon the mossy bankbeneath the palms waiting for the dawn on that mysterious island. Johnnywas not the only one to indulge in long, long thoughts. Doris came in forher full share.
"It's strange," she told herself, as a little thrill ran through her, "tobe camping here on an island we have never seen. Who can say what wildcreatures may roam these forests? Time was when whole herds of wildcattle wandered peacefully over our own dry plains or went charging madlyup the steep slopes to escape some pursuer."
As she sat there amid the silence, she fancied all manner of strange andunusual things, yet a stout heart held her nerves steady. Fortunately hermind was fresh. Sleep on the boat had done much for her. She was readyfor another day and whatever it might bring. So she sat there listeningto the voice of the jungle.
Night brings its changes to a tropical island. At night a thousandcreatures, too torpid or too timid to face the light of day, fare forthin search of food. Strange mouselike rodents, and those resemblingrabbits, sport in the spots where moonlight falls. The short-nosed wildpig comes forth from his dark retreat to root around among the ferns andshrubs. More fearsome creatures there are too: yellow snakes and great,brown lizards.
All this Doris knew, yet, strangely enough, she experienced no tremor offear. Not so strange after all perhaps: for was not Johnny Thompson closeat hand? It is strange this confidence of a girl in the strength of aboy; her utter confidence in his power to defend her from the beasts ofthe jungle, from a hidden enemy, yes, from the very lightning bolts thatshoot from the sky.
Perhaps, as she sat there, eyes half closed, part asleep, part awake, thegirl dreamed of the time when she should have a man who was all her own,and a home. For, long ago she had learned that the best of life's goodthings come to those who have a roof, a kitchen, a hearthfire they cancall their own.
She thought for the hundredth time of the jeweled monkey and of thetreasure supposed to be hidden away in the now ruined castle. She thoughtof Johnny's 'Rope of Gold' and wondered if it had really existed, existedstill to-day or were made of the stuff that dreams are woven from.
She thrilled as she recalled Johnny's story of the copper-colored nativesand his battle with the wild boar.
Most of all she wondered about the island which they had reached in sucha strange manner. Was it a small island? Was it large? Were there manynatives? Were they wild natives? Was it true that some of these nativeswere cannibals? It had been true long ago in the days of Columbus. Hadthey changed or had they clung to their primitive customs down the longcenturies? She thought of Nieta and her snake-tooth charm.
"If she who has lived among white people all her life still believes inthis Voodoo charm," she thought with a shudder, "what is one to expectfrom the inhabitants of some small island where the white man is seldomseen?"
So she wondered and thought, and wondered again until the first flush ofdawn came sifting down among the trees. Then Johnny Thompson rose toshake himself and peer into the dawn. After that they started, the threeof them, through that faint but beautiful light that is a tropicalmorning, toward the beach, fortified with brave hearts, strong bodies andclean minds against that which the day might bring forth.
* * * * * * * *
At that very hour Curlie and Dot were leaving the garden of the chateau.They were going in search of Doris and Nieta. Dot's father was away.There remained at their home only two aged servants. Because of thethreatened revolution it was necessary that the servants remain and keepa sharp watch out for trouble.
"Father should be told of the revolution," said Dot. "He should know,too, that Doris has disappeared. But who will find him? He is to be gonefor a week. He will travel from place to place and has no definite route.
"So," she sighed. "I guess it's up to us to do what is to be done."
"Count on me," said Curlie. "Mike and I will help you."
"Mike?" The girl threw him a curious glance.
"Why yes,--Mike." Curlie spoke slowly as if reluctant to say more.
With a girl's quick perception, she read his thoughts and asked no otherquestions.
So in the half darkness of early morning, they left the beautiful chateauto lose themselves on the jungle trail that leads up to the ancientfortress where Dorn, after a restless night full of dire forebodings, wasdoing his bit helping old Pompee kindle a fire.
They walked along in silence, Curlie and the girl. Curlie was thinking.He had always thought of Haiti as a quiet place, sleepy and hot wherenothing truly exciting ever happened, yet after being here only part of avery short summer, he found himself facing many mysteries and, as far ashe could tell, in for more than one adventure.
"If only people wouldn't be forever getting themselves lost," he thoughtto himself.
His mind at that moment was busy with thoughts of his little laboratoryat the ancient Citadel. "If only they'd leave me alone I'd get the thingcompleted. And it is important that I should complete it; especially ifthere is to be a revolution. With these superstitious natives----
"Man! Oh Man!" He unconsciously spoke out loud. "How they would run!"
"Who would run?" said Dot.
"The--why the natives, of course. They're always running, aren't they?"
Again the girl understood and said no more.
"She's a peach of a girl. Don't insist on prying into everything," hethought. "Someday I'll tell her my secrets."
"If this Midas were only a dog," he said a moment later, speaking ofDot's donkey, "he could lead us back over the trail to his mistress. Butbeing only a donkey--"
"Midas has donkey's ears because he is a donkey." The girl laughed amerry laugh. "Since he is a donkey you can't expect too much of him. Butwe'll find Doris all right."
"I'm sure of it," said Curlie.
* * * * * * * *
In the meantime Johnny, Doris and Nieta had reached the beach and wererevelling in a tropical sunrise over the sea.
Dawn on a tropical sea! How can one describe it? Great, dark clouds thatappear to threaten sudden disaster. The sea a sheet of gray steel. Then,slowly comes the change. The dull, threatening clouds are tinted with thepink of rose petals. The sea loses its dull foreboding and like the skybecomes a thing of beauty. Brighter colors follow, red, orange, yellow,and after that, with a low whisper of wavelets the day is ushered in.
And such a day as it promised to be for the three of them, Johnny, Dorisand Nieta.
The first fact that Johnny's practiced eye noted was that the boat thathad carried them to these strange shores was gone.
"What if this should prove to be a small, abandoned island," he saidaloud, "like Robinson Crusoe's?"
"What if it should?" Doris breathed.
What indeed? They were young, romantic. The sea lay before them. Behindthem was the island. The thrilling possibilities of it all set theirblood racing. Animal trails no human foot has trod. Jungles no man hasexplored. Strange butterflies and flowers of a species no man has known.Ruins perhaps of a long forgotten race or of some ancient pirate's hidingplace. All these possibilities and more lay before them.
There was food. Wild bananas, cocoanuts, bread fruit, fish in the streamsand the sea, and birds so tame they might almost be caught with the nakedhand.
As they stood there day-dreaming, the sea, the air, the very palm topsappeared to listen to their thoughts; so calm and still it was; such aSabbath hush there was over all.
And then, crashing into their thoughts, wrecking the silence, came alaugh, the loud, prolonged laugh of a black man. There could be nomistaking it. No white man, certainly no Oriental, could laugh like that.
The boy and girl started, then stood for ten seconds looking into oneanother's eyes. After that, because the laugh was contagious, they tooburst forth into merry peals of laughter.
"There are people on the island," said Johnny. "A
man seldom laughs whenhe is alone. Never like that."
"Johnny," said Doris, "do cannibals and pirates laugh?"
"I doubt it," said Johnny. "Surely not that way."
"How strange it is," he said after a moment of silence. "Men may readyour character, your mood, your very attitude toward life and your fellowmen by your laugh. A boy torments a smaller boy by burning his bare footwith a hot stick. He laughs. How different is that laugh from a heart sofull of pure joy that it needs must overflow with laughter."
"There are people over there," he repeated. "There's no use prolongingthe suspense. Either they are friendly natives or vicious savages. Ineither case there is nothing gained by delay. Humanity is very much thesame everywhere. We are usurpers in their land. The best we can do is tomarch right up and say, 'Howdy'. Let's go."
And away they marched.
