Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “No, Master Sam.”

  “They’re probably sleeping late. Anyhow, they can’t have gone away on the raft yet.”

  Bry shook his head.

  “All very wicked mans, Master Sam,” he said. “Even in big storm, while we climb up to cave, Mister Daggett tell me to go behind Pete an’ push him off rock.”

  “The villain!” I exclaimed, indignantly.

  “He tell me if I not push Pete off, he kill me,” continued Bry, with a grin.

  “What did you do?”

  “When they run into cave, I run by it, an’ come here. That’s all, Master Sam.”

  “You did well, Bry. If they climb up here after you, we’ll fight them to the death.”

  “No climb rock any more, Master Sam,” said Bry, soberly.

  “Why not?”

  “See how rock tip? Only fly can climb rock now.”

  “I believe you’re right, Bry!” I cried, startled at this dreadful assertion; “and, if so, we’re prisoners here. Let us see what it looks like.”

  I crawled rather stiffly down the inclined surface to the edge overlooking the sea, and one glance showed me that it would now be impossible for anyone to walk along the narrow ledge.

  While I looked a sharp cry of horror from Nux reached my ears, and swiftly turning I hastened with Bry toward the place where the islander was leaning over the gulf that separated the peak from the mainland.

  “What is it, Nux?” I asked, anxiously.

  But the Sulu only stood motionless, pointing with one finger into the abyss, while his eyes stared downward with an expression of abject fear.

  We both followed his gaze, and one glance was sufficient to fully acquaint us with the awful catastrophe the vengeance of the storm had wrought.

  The huge rocking-stone, weighing thousands of tons, which for ages had remained delicately balanced upon the edge of the chasm, had been struck by a bolt of lightning and torn from its base. Crashing into the gulf, a point of the great, wedge-shaped boulder had entered the mouth of the cave where the desperadoes sought shelter, and, crowded forward by its own weight, it had sealed up the robbers in a living grave, from whence no power of man could ever rescue them.

  It was this mighty wedge, crowded into the space between the slender peak and the main cliff, that had caused the former to lean outward; and in one comprehensive look we were able to read the whole story of the night’s tragedy — a tragedy we had instinctively felt in the crash of the storm, but could only realize now.

  “Poor fellows!” I whispered, softly, forgetting in my awe that they had been our relentless enemies. “It was a terrible fate. Perhaps they’re even now sitting in that dark hole, shut off from all the world and waiting for death to overtake them. Isn’t it dreadful.”

  The islanders glanced at one another without reply, but I noticed that they exchanged a secret sign which their pagan priests had taught them when they were boys, and which was supposed to propitiate the demon of retribution. To their simple minds Daggett and his gang of cut-throats had been properly punished for their wickedness.

  But for my part I am glad to remember that at the moment I ignored the fact that these men were wicked, and grieved that four human beings had suddenly been cut off in the prime of their manhood. The recollection of their crimes might temper my regret afterward, but just now my thoughts were all of sorrow and commiseration.

  Nux roused me from my reflections by asking: “What we do now, Master Sam?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, despairingly. “If we can’t escape from this rock we are little better off than those poor fellows below us. See! the stone, as it fell, tore away the ledge completely.”

  “No climb down, any way at all,” said Bry, squatting upon the rock and clasping his knees with his hands.

  “We haven’t any rope, or enough clothing to make one,” I continued, striving to be calm and to force myself to think clearly. “But if we remain up here it won’t take us long to die of thirst or starvation. The aggravating thing about it is that the mainland is just too far away for us to leap across to it. We’re in a bad fix, boys, and no mistake.”

  Bry gazed reflectively at the trees.

  “If we had axe,” said he, “we chop down tree, and make fall across the gulf.”

  “Ah! that’s a clever idea,” I cried; but my elation quickly subsided, and I added gloomily in the next breath: “only we have no axe.”

  Bry made no answer, but sat thoughtfully gazing around him. Presently he began to creep around the table of rock on his hands and knees, examining every part of its surface with great care.

  At one place, where the edge of the rock was jagged and of a harder character than the rest, he paused to make a more thorough examination, and then he drew out his one-bladed jack-knife and began prying into the rock with its point.

  Nux and I immediately crept to his side to see what he was doing, and soon Bry had loosened a piece of rock that weighed about five pounds. It was flat on the lower surface and of irregular circular form. This fragment the Sulu examined with great care, and struck it sharply against the rock without breaking it. It seemed to meet his approval, for he laid it carefully aside and at once attempted to pry up another portion of the hard rock. Then, when he had again succeeded, he sat down and began cautiously chipping one piece of rock against the other, until he had brought the first fragment to a wedge shape that resembled a rude axe.

  “Ah! I understand now what you’re about, Bry,” I exclaimed, delightedly. “Do you think you can make it work?”

  Bry nodded.

  “That way we make axe in Jolo-Jolo,” he said, proudly.

  He now handed the rude implement to Nux, who seemed to comprehend without words what was required of him, for he at once began rubbing the edge of the stone axe upon a rough portion of rock to smooth and sharpen it more perfectly.

  Meanwhile Bry pried up more rock and formed a second axe-head, and so for several hours the men labored patiently at their task, while I, unable to be of assistance, sat watching them with breathless interest.

  When the second axe was ready for Nux to sharpen, Bry climbed up the trunk of one of the tall pines, and selecting a branch of the size he desired, with much effort cut it from the tree with his knife.

  Then he descended, trimmed the branch, and began fashioning it into an axe-handle. He made no attempt to render it graceful or beautiful, you may be sure. The one requirement was service, and the wood was tough and strong enough to answer the purpose required.

  By the time the handle was ready Nux had worn the edge of the first rude stone axe to a fair degree of sharpness, and with it Bry split the end of the handle far enough down to wedge the axe-head between the pieces. Then he bound the top together with strips of bark cut from a young limb, which was far stronger than any cord would have been.

  A clumsy instrument it seemed to be, when it was finished; but Bry balanced it gravely in his hands, and swung it around his head, and nodded his full approval and satisfaction.

  “Now we chop down tree,” he announced.

  Of the three trees that fortunately grew upon the column of rock, two were evidently too short to reach across the gulf from where they stood. But the third was close to the edge, and towered well above its fellows; so this was the one Bry selected. A woodsman would probably have laughed at the strokes dealt by the Sulu; but Bry knew what he was about, for he had chopped trees in this way before. Too hard a blow would have crushed the stone edge of the weapon, and a prying motion would have broken it at once; so the islander struck straight and true, and not with too much force, and slowly but surely wore through the stalwart trunk of the tree.

  When the axe got dull he unbound the bark thongs and exchanged it for the other, while Nux re-sharpened it. This consumed a good deal of time, and the day was far advanced before Bry decided that the chopping was deep enough to allow them to fell the tree. This they did in a peculiar way, for Nux climbed into the high branches and then, aided by Bry and me, who pus
hed from below, he began swaying the tree back and forth, his own weight adding to the strain, until suddenly it gave way at the stump and — slowly at first, but with ever accelerating speed — fell with a crash across the gulf.

  It looked like a trying and dangerous position for Nux; but the islander cleverly kept on the outer side of the branches, which broke his fall so perfectly that even as the tree touched the cliff he sprang to the ground safe and uninjured.

  “Hooray!” I shouted, in delight; for this bridge removed from my heart all terrors of starvation and imprisonment, affording us a means of leaving the islet of rock as soon as we pleased to go.

  But the sun was even now sinking below the horizon, so we decided not to effect the crossing until morning. Nux climbed back over the swaying trunk, and after he had rejoined us we ate the last crumbs of food we possessed for our supper and then lay down to sleep.

  Having passed the day in idleness I found I was not very tired or sleepy; but the Sulus were thoroughly exhausted by their labors, and they welcomed the rest as only weary men can.

  Long after they were snoring I sat in the moonlight thinking of our strange adventures of the past twenty-four hours; the recovery of the gold, the destruction of the robbers, and our present means of release from the dangerous pinnacle that had threatened to hold us fast prisoners. And I realized, with a grateful heart, that I owed all of my good fortune and narrow escapes to the faithful Sulu men, and made a vow that I would never in the future forget the services they had rendered.

  CHAPTER 15

  THE MAJOR GIVES CHASE.

  Meantime there had been much excitement and confusion in the camp when it was discovered that several of the men, including Nux and Bry, and even “the boy Sam,” had disappeared during the night with most of the gold dust that had been accumulated.

  I can relate fairly well what occurred, for I heard the story often enough afterward.

  The Major was furious with rage, at first, and sent at once for Uncle Naboth, whom he accused of being at the bottom of the plot to rob him.

  Mr. Perkins was so full of his own anxieties that he paid little attention to the red-bearded giant’s ravings.

  “I’m afraid Sam’s in trouble,” he said, nervously.

  “In trouble! You bet he is,” yelled the Major, “I’ll skin him alive when I catch him.”

  “That’s the point,” answered Uncle Naboth. “How are we to find him again? I’ll risk you hurting the boy, if we can only find out where they’ve taken him.”

  “Your niggers are gone, too,” the Major reminded him.

  “That’s the only thing that gives me hope, sir,” retorted my Uncle. “Those men are as faithful and honest as any men on earth, and I’m thinking they’re gone after Sam to try to rescue him.”

  “Then you think he’s been kidnapped, do you?”

  “Of course. The men that are missing are the worst of your lot — the ones that have caused you the most trouble in every way. There’s not a man from the ‘Flipper’s’ crew among them. The way I figure it out is that Daggett, Larkin, Hayes and Judson have made a plot to steal all the gold, and escape with it. They robbed you first, and then they robbed Sam, and when the boy tried to make a fuss they just kidnapped him and took him along with them.”

  “How about the niggers?” asked the Major, sarcastically.

  “That puzzles me, I’ll admit,” acknowledged my Uncle. “Bry and Nux may have seen the thieves get away with Sam, and followed after them, to try to rescue him. That’s the only way I can figure it out just now. But we’re losing time, Major. What’s to be done?”

  “Two things. Get back the gold, and shoot down the robbers like dogs. They can’t get away, you know. They’re somewhere on this island, and I mean to find them.”

  “There’s the ship.”

  “What of it?”

  “If they get aboard and sail away we’ll be in a bad box.”

  “How can they get aboard? We’ve got the small boats.”

  “They can make a raft, or even swim out to the ship,” returned Uncle Naboth, shrewdly. “I tell you, Major, you’re wasting time. Why don’t you do something?”

  The Major glanced at him as if undecided whether to be angry with him or not. But Mr. Perkins was undoubtedly right, and the miners were gathering outside the door with curses and threats against the men who had robbed them, for the news had quickly spread throughout the camp.

  So their leader sent six men, heavily armed, in the ship’s long-boat to board the “Flipper” and protect the vessel from being captured. These were all his own men, for he still suspected that the “Flipper’s” crew were in some way implicated in the theft.

  Then he picked four miners and four of the sailors to form a party to search for the robbers, and decided to lead the band himself and to take Uncle Naboth with him. The rest of the men were ordered to resume their work of washing out gold.

  “I’m going to trust you, Perkins,” said the Major, “for your loss is as great as ours, and you seem anxious over that boy of yours. But if I meet with any treachery I’ll shoot you on the spot; and if I find that Sam Steele is one of the thieves I’ll show him no mercy, I promise you.”

  “Quite satisfactory, sir,” answered Uncle Naboth, calmly. “Only let us get started as soon as possible.”

  It was a puzzle at first to know in which direction to look for the fugitives; but Ned Britton had been carefully inspecting the edge of the forest, and came upon one of the paths Daggett had made in the course of his various wanderings inland. It was not the one we had taken, but away they started through the thicket, on a false scent, and the entire day was consumed in a vain search.

  As they sat over their camp fire at evening Ned proposed that they try the other side of the island the following day.

  “It’s there where the ship lies anchored, sir,” he told the Major; “and it’s most likely the men are in that neighborhood. The paths we’ve been following today are old trails that lead nowhere in particular, and there’s no use going any further in this direction.”

  This proposition was so sensible that the Major at once agreed to it, and daybreak saw them tramping through the tangled underbrush toward the opposite side of the island. Britton, who had a good sense of direction and knew about where the ship lay, undertook to guide them, and was fortunate enough to strike the trail of the robbers about the middle of the afternoon. The tracks lay directly toward the beach, and they pressed on with renewed vigor; but the heat was terribly oppressive in the more open country they had now reached, and the men were all exhausted by the long tramp. When, a little later, the sky grew black and the storm burst upon them, they withdrew to a thick grove of trees and rigged up a temporary shelter with their blankets, beneath which they passed the night.

  The storm raged all around them, and occasionally the crash of a fallen tree startled their nerves; but the high cliff broke the force of the wind, and the lightning was less severe than it was directly on the coast.

  Uncle Naboth thought of me more than once during this rage of the elements, and hoped I was safe from harm; indeed, his anxiety was so great that he scarcely closed his eyes throughout the night.

  At daybreak they left their shelter and gazed wonderingly at the scene of devastation around them. The storm had wrought fearful havoc everywhere, and when they resumed their journey their progress was necessarily slow and difficult.

  Still they labored on, and in the afternoon passed through the forest and came upon the coast directly opposite the place where the “Flipper” still rode at anchor under bare masts. She seemed to have escaped all danger from the storm, and although the sea was still rolling high the good ship nodded her prow to each wave with a grace that betokened she was still in good condition.

  “Well, boys, the robbers haven’t got her yet!” cried Uncle Naboth, delightedly.

  “No; but they’ve had a try for it already,” said the Major, significantly, as he pointed to a half-finished raft that had been lifted high by
the waves of the previous night and wedged fast between two great trees. “Evidently the scoundrels don’t know we have sent a squad to guard the ship.”

  “We’re on their trail, all right,” remarked Ned Britton, after examining the crudely constructed raft carefully. “But where do you suppose they are?”

  “Somewhere on the coast, of course,” said Uncle Naboth. “Let’s walk up the edge of the bay to the inlet, and see if they’re in that direction.”

  So they made for the inlet, failing, of course, to find any traces of the thieves. They were seen from the deck of the “Flipper” by the men who had been sent aboard in the long boat, and the Major signaled them to remain where they were for the present.

  After a brief halt the little band retraced their steps to examine the coast in the other direction, and another night overtook them within hailing distance of the rocky peak where I and the two islanders were resting beside our newly acquired bridge to await impatiently the morning. But the Major’s party was, of course, unaware of this, and went into camp in a hollow where the light of their fire was unobserved by us.

  At daybreak, however, Uncle Naboth and Ned Britton were up and anxiously exploring the coast; and presently they saw, a little distance away, the tall form of Bryonia walking carefully across our tree trunk. The islander almost fell into the arms of Uncle Naboth, as he stepped off the tree and the old man’s first anxious question was:

  “Where’s Sam?”

  “Here I am, Uncle!” I called from my rock. “I’ll be with you in a minute, but we’ve got to get the gold over first.”

  “The gold!” cried Uncle Naboth, in amazement. “Have you got it, then, after all?”

  “To be sure,” said I, with a touch of pride, “every grain of it!”

  Uncle Naboth groaned.

  “I didn’t think as you’d do it, Sam, my boy,” he said, regretfully.

  “I couldn’t have done it, without Nux and Bry,” I answered, not understanding that I had been accused of the theft.

  The old man turned reproachfully to Bry, who stood grinning beside him.