Adventures of Don Lavington: Nolens Volens

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Adventures of Don Lavington: Nolens Volens Page 50

by George Manville Fenn


  CHAPTER FIFTY.

  HOW TO ESCAPE?

  It was in quite a little natural fortress that Mike stopped, the waybeing in and out through a narrow rift that must have been the result ofsome earthquake, and when this was passed they were in a sheltered nook,at one side of which the face of a precipice hung right over, affordingample protection from the wind and rain. Through quite a cranny astream of perfectly clear water trickled, and on the other side was asmall deep pool, slowly welling over at one side, the steam risingtherefrom telling that it was in some way connected with the noisy jetwhich rose outside.

  "There, young Don Lavington, that's where we lives, my lad, and you'vegot to stay with us. If you behave well, you shall have plenty to eatand drink. If you don't, mind one o' my mates don't bring you down ashe would a bird."

  Don glanced round wonderingly, and tried to grasp why it was that MikeBannock was there, the only surmise upon which he could take hold beingthe right one--Jem's: that Mike was a transported man who had taken tothe bush.

  He had just come to this conclusion when Jem turned to him.

  "Shall I ask him that, Mas' Don?"

  "Ask him what?"

  "What I think. Depend upon it he was sent out to Botany Bay, and runoff to this country."

  "No, no, Jem; don't ask."

  "He can't have come out here honest, Mas' Don. Look at him, there arn'ta honest hair in his head."

  "But we don't want to offend him, Jem."

  "Don't we? Tell you what we do want, Mas' Don; we want to get hold o'them old rusty muskets and the powder and shot, and then we could makethem sing small. Eh? What say?"

  This was in answer to something said in a low voice by Ngati, who lookedfrom one to the other inquiringly.

  Ngati spoke again, and then struck his fist into his hand with a look ofrage and despair.

  "Yes, I feel the same," said Don, laying his hand upon the greatfellow's arm. "I'd give anything to be able to understand what you say,Ngati."

  The chief smiled, as if he quite comprehended; and grasped Don's handwith a friendly grip, offering the other to Jem.

  "It's all right, old boy," said the latter. "We can't understand eachother's lingo, but we know each other's hearts. We've got to wait a bitand see."

  A week passed rapidly away, during which, in his rougher moods, Miketreated his prisoners as if they were slaves, calling upon Ngati toperform the most menial offices for the little camp, all of which werepatiently performed after an appealing look at Don, who for the sake ofgaining time gave up in every way.

  Jem grumbled, but he did what he was told, for the slightest appearanceof resistance was met by a threatening movement with the muskets, whichnever left the men's hands.

  They were fairly supplied with food; fish from the streams and from agood-sized lake, Ngati proving himself to be an adept at capturing thelarge eels, and at discovering fresh supplies of fruit and roots.

  But in a quiet way, as he watched his English companions like a dog, healways seemed to comprehend their wishes, and to be waiting the timewhen they should call upon him to fly at their tyrants and then helpthem to escape.

  "Didn't know I was coming out to look after you, did you, young Don?"said Mike one evening. "King sent me out o' purpose. Told one of thejudges to send me out here, and here I am; and I've found you, and Iought to take you home, but I won't. You always liked furrin countries,and I'm going to keep you here."

  "What for?" said Don.

  "To make you do for me what I used to do for you. I was your sarvant;now you're mine. Ups and downs in life we see. Now you're down and I'mup; and what d'yer think o' that, Jem Wimble?"

  "Think as you was transported, and that you've took to the bush."

  "Oh, do you?" said Mike, grinning. "Well, never mind; I'm here, andyou're there, and you've got to make the best of it."

  To make the best of it was not easy. The three convicts, aftercompelling their prisoners to make the resting-place they occupied moreweather-proof and warm, set them to make a lean-to for themselves, towhich they were relegated, but without arms, Mike Bannock having on thefirst day they were at work taken possession of their weapons.

  "You won't want them," he said, with an ugly grin; "we'll do the huntingand fighting, and you three shall do the work."

  Jem uttered a low growl, at which Mike let the handle of one of thespears fall upon his shoulder, and as Jem fiercely seized it, threemuskets were presented at his head.

  "Oh, all right," growled Jem, with a menacing look.

  "Yes, it's all right, Jem Wimble. But look here, don't you or either ofyou cut up rough; for if you do, things may go very awkward."

  "I should like to make it awkward for them, Mas' Don," whispered Jem, asthe convicts turned away; "but never mind, I can wait."

  They did wait, day after day, working hard, ill fed, and sufferingendless abuse, and often blows, which would have been resented by Ngati,but for a look from Don; and night by night, as they gathered togetherin their little lean-to hut, with a thick heap of fern leaves for theirbed their conversation was on the same subject--how could they get themuskets and spears, and escape.

  There was no further alarm on the part of the Maoris, who seemed, afterthey had been discouraged in their pursuit, and startled by the guns, tohave given up all intention of recapturing the escaped prisoners.

  "If we could only get the guns and spears, Jem," said Don one eveningfor the hundredth time.

  "Yes, and I'd precious soon have them," replied Jem; "only they'realways on the watch."

  "Yes, they're too cunning to leave them for a moment. Was any one everbefore so unlucky as we are?"

  "Well, if you come to that," said Jem, "yes. Poor old Tomati, for one;and it can't be very nice for Ngati here, who has lost all his tribe."

  Ngati looked up sharply, watching them both intently in the gloomycabin.

  "But he don't seem to mind it so very much."

  "What do you say to escaping without spears?"

  "Oh, I'm willing," replied Jem; "only I wouldn't be in too great ahurry. Those chaps wouldn't mind having a shot at us again, and thistime they might hit."

  "What shall we do then?"

  "Better wait, Mas' Don. This sort o' thing can't last. We shall sooneat up all the fruit, and then they'll make a move, and we may have abetter chance."

  Don sighed and lay with his eyes half-closed, watching one particularstar which shone in through the doorway.

  But not for long. The star seemed to grow misty as if veiled by acloud; then it darkened altogether; so it seemed to Don, for the simplereason that he had fallen fast asleep.

  It appeared only a minute since he was gazing at the star before he felta hand pressed across his mouth, and with a horrible dread of beingsmothered, he uttered a hoarse, stifled cry, and struggled to get free;but another hand was pressed upon his chest, and it seemed as if the endhad come.

 

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