Because no sound of any sort now came to our ears we were beginning to worry about the fate of our men when Bry joined us on deck. He said the Faytans did not shout when they fought. They uttered no war cry of any sort, but went into battle silently and if slain died without a murmur. Victory was accepted with the same stoicism, so it was impossible for us to tell how the battle had gone. That Ned Britton’s party had met the natives there was no doubt. The shots told us that. Only time could disclose the result.
My father and Uncle Naboth had come on deck and soon young Alfonso joined our anxious group.
“I hope your men didn’t provoke a battle with the islanders,” said the latter. “My father and I depend on them for assistance in getting away from here.”
“They’ll be glad to assist you to get to glory,” replied Uncle Naboth, “for that’s their best stunt. Haven’t you been told these Faytans, or Pearl People, as our blacks call ‘em, decree death to any who land on this island?”
“Oh, that’s Nux’s story; but I don’t believe it,” said the boy. “When we tell them who we are they’ll be sure to treat us decently.”
“Do you suppose they’ve ever heard of Colombia?” I asked.
“Why not?” be retorted. “They must have some intercourse with the outside world. Ships visit every known island, nowadays.”
“I doubt if a ship has ever been here before,” said I. “This isn’t a known island; it’s not on any map or chart or other record. There are plenty of such islands in the South Seas, I suppose. Bryonia and Nux happen to know this place, for their own native island is only about a hundred leagues away; but my father and uncle, who have sailed all the traveled paths in the South Pacific, have never heard of Faytan before.” Alfonso became silent at this; but he remained on deck, and it was after midnight before our anxiety was satisfied.
Ned’s signal came as a joyful surprise to us, and we hastily threw down the ladders and ropes to assist the fugitives in gaining the deck, in case they were pursued. The mate leaped on board first of all, saying: “Let down the davits; and lively, too, lads! We’ve got the boats; but Lord only knows what else we’ve brought with us.”
In the hurry that followed no questions were asked. It was better to work first and talk afterward. The davits were swung out and the ropes lowered; but after that it was some time before we got the first signal to haul away, for the men had to carry the heavy boats up the slanting rocks before they could be attached. Pretty soon the longboat came swinging up; then the gig, and finally the cutter. We had lost the fourth boat, the whaler, in launching it in the storm, but all the boats left on the shore of the cove, with their contents, were now secured. We had to work by the light of the stars, which was dim enough; for until the boats and all the men were under shelter we dared not show a light.
Finally three of our men were hoisted over the side moaning with pain. These were tenderly received by their fellows and stowed below, while Bry, the best surgeon on the ship, hurried after to see what could be done for them. When we got Ned into the cabin to spin his yam we found his left hand covered with a bloodsoaked bandage tom from his shirt, yet he had been working so industriously we had not suspected he was wounded.
“We got to the cove, all right,” he said, “though it were a bitter climb over them sharp rocks. We didn’t wait a minute after gett’n’ thar, but run the boats down the beach into deep water an’ prepared to get away at once. Part of us were still waist deep in the water an’ the others gett’n’ the oars shipped, when without warnin’ a hail of arrers fell among us. It was dark, a’most, but when I glanced at the shore I could see the white sand covered with scores o’ black natives; so I knew our first move was to dig out lively. Yaller Tom were bleedin’ beside me in the water, an’ I had to pull an arrer out’n my own hand afore I could help him; but in a jiffy we were aboard an’ rowin’ like mad. The arrers kept failin”round us, but didn’t do any more damage, so afore we got out o’ rifle range I let the boys drop oars an’ fire one round into that black line o’ savages. Some of ‘em must have dropped, but they never give a whimper; so we rowed on agin an’ soon lost sight of ‘em. The waves rolled us’ round some, for the storm left a heavy swell, an’ to keep from grindin’ on the reefs we had to pick our way mighty careful. There ain’t no decent water anywhere near this ship, an’ at first I thought we’d never get the boats to it; but a mile or so north we found an openin’ in the first reef, an’ half a mile or so south o’ here we got through the second reef. We had to keep quiet, for fear the savages had followed us along the shore, so they could drop on us when we tried to land; but they failed to connect. Seen anything of ‘em?”
“No,” replied Uncle Naboth. “Who’s hurt, Ned, besides yourself?”
“I guess Yaller Tom is done fer. The arrer’s broke off in his chest an’ he wouldn’t let us pull it out. Nicodemus Brown’s got a splinter through his shoulder, an’ young Dipps got an ugly gash in the leg. That’s the worst o’ the story, although several of us’ll carry scars to remind us of this night’s work.”
“I think,” said I, “you owe your escape to the fact that the natives had no canoes on this end of the island. They must have discovered you while you were climbing the point, but got to the cove just a little too late to meet you.”
“Perhaps,” said Captain Steele, “it would have been a more even fight if you could have faced them on land.”
“I’m satisfied as it was,” returned Ned, shaking his head doubtfully. “They were thick as fleas, Cap’n, an’ if we hadn’t got away in the boats when we did we could have shot ‘em down till our cartridges give out, an’ then there’d have been enough left to have murdered us neat an’ quiet. We must get ready for them folks, sir; they’re sure to be on us in the momin’, if they don’t arrive sooner. But I count myself lucky to have got back with the boats with no worse calamities than we really had.”
“So do I,” said my father. “I’m much obliged, Ned.”
I went to the forecastle to inquire about the wounded. Bry looked grave over Yellow Tom’s case, but said the others would quickly recover. Our islander knew all about arrow wounds, such as these, and could treat them more successfully than a regular surgeon might have done.
“Do you suppose the arrows were poisoned?” I asked.
“No,” he replied; “South Sea natives do not poison arrows. We leave that to the Negritos of the Philippines and inland tribes of Australia. We islanders fight like men, not like cowards.”
“I fear we shall find plenty of fighting ahead of us,” I remarked, rather gloomily.
The black nodded.
“If we stay here we must fight,” said he. “I think it better to take the women away in the boats, and trust the sea. From here I am sure I can find the way to my own island, where I am a chief.”
I made no comment on this suggestion and returned thoughtfully to the deck. I knew Bryonia’s advice was sound enough, but I hated to leave without an attempt to see the Pearl City and get some of the big pearls I had heard of. The result proved, however, that we could not have taken to the boats had we decided to.
We kept an alert watch that night, you may be sure, but not a sound did we hear except the sullen roar of the breakers against the reefs. As dawn broke the lookout made a discovery. About a quarter of a mile away, between the first and second reefs, was a solid line of canoes, each carrying from three to six native Faytans. This line extended from the point to half a mile down the coast, and the patrol so established was sufficient to render our escape in the boats impossible.
There was no sign of activity among the natives. They sat stolidly in their canoes, their eyes bent upon the ship, perched high before them, and these sentries were destined to remain at their posts for many days to come.
Now that we were discovered we experienced a feeling of relief. Whatever might happen from this time on we could accept calmly and with our eyes wide open. It was no game of hide and seek, but open defiance.
“I suppose we must accept this as a
declaration of war,” remarked Senor de Jiminez at the breakfast table. The ladies had all risen early to go on deck and examine the canoe patrol, so for once we were a complete assemblage.
“It certainly is no peaceful demonstration,” I replied.
“Still, we may be able to treat with them and peace establish,” continued the Colombian. “Let us offer to give them a few guns if they will let us go.”
I noticed Nux grinning in a comer of the cabin and was at once reminded of the humor of the suggestion advanced.
“Do they know about guns, Nux?” I asked.
“No, Mars Sam.”
“If they did,” I asserted, “they’d realize their ability to capture all we have. But I understand these people never treat with intruders.”
“We did not mean to intrude!” exclaimed Madam de Alcantara in a frightened voice.
“No; it was forced upon us,” I agreed. “I wonder if these fellows, to whom a ship like ours is unknown, are not amazed to find the Seagull set high upon the rocks of their coast.”
“All savage tribes,” remarked Senor de Jiminez, reverting to the former subject, “are said to deal with foreigners as they are dealt with. These people may be inimical to other native tribes, who sometimes come to fight and rob them, but it seems to me if we treat them politely they will become friendly in return.”
“You may try it, if you like,” said Uncle Naboth dryly. “They didn’t wait to discover whether Ned Britton’s party were polite or not; they jest shot ‘em up an’ asked no questions.”
“Oh, dear!” wailed Madam de Alcantara. “I’m sure we shall all be murdered by these heathen brutes. Why — oh, why — did I ever sail on your ill-fated ship!” and the poor lady began to shed real tears.
Lucia’s mother had a weak character, in spite of her proud and haughty airs when safe ashore in a civilized community. Any adverse fortune floored her at once and I am sure she had already suffered agonies such as ordinary death could not equal. Her daughter, attentive and sympathetic in a charming, unobtrusive way, sought to console and encourage her parent; but it was a hopeless task. The sight of the natives had completely unnerved Madam de Alcantara, and she sobbed so bitterly that Lucia had to lead her to her room.
Madam de Jiminez had nothing to say. She seldom asked a question, and knowing she would be cared for as well as circumstances would permit, showed us always a benign and cheerful face. She was never in the way, and we all so admired the old lady’s courage that she suffered no lack of attention. The one beautiful thing about her son and grandson was the devotion they lavished upon her. Selfish they might be in all other ways, but both were willing at all times to sacrifice their pleasure to insure her comfort. Misadventures such as this are sure to bring out the good and bad in one’s nature, and we learned to gauge one another quite correctly during this period of mutual danger and suffering.
On gaining the deck after breakfast we found that the idea of turning the ship into a fort was being carried out in a practical manner. We always carried a supply of rifles and cutlasses in the gun room, in case of an emergency such as this. These had been brought out and distributed lavishly along the deck, where one could conveniently seize them. We had plenty of ammunition without having recourse to the revolutionary supplies, and we judged that from the shelter of our bulwarks we could repel any horde of savages attempting to clamber up the rocks. Even if we allowed them to reach the summits of the twin peaks unmolested they could not scale the ship’s side; so, with plenty of provisions and an arsenal to fight with, we felt fairly safe for the present.
In addition to the small arms, we had two brass howitzers mounted at the bow and stem of the Seagull. These were usually masked with canvas sacks, designed to disguise them so the ordinary observer would not notice our armament; but they were now uncovered and put in order for action, our men training them so as to command the open space between us and the edge of the dark forest.
We had ample time for these preparations. The canoes guarding the reef passages lay motionless and no sign of life was observable on the land side. We hardly knew how to account for this; whether they were tempting us to leave the ship or were themselves preparing for an assault. However, it was our business to “stand pat” and await results.
The day passed tediously. Lounging by the rail we looked down upon the grim line of warriors, so silent and motionless, and they looked up at us. Fortunately for them they were beyond the range of our rifles. I brought up my glasses and focused them so the natives were distinctly visible in every detail. They were handsome, stalwart fellows, averaging fully six feet in height I judged, although now all were crouching in the canoes. They were not black, as were Nux and Bryonia, but a dark chocolate brown. Their hair seemed straight and fine of texture and was allowed to grow long and be curled into a knot at the back of the head, as women often wear it. Their only article of dress was a loin cloth, made of a dark colored material on which were sewn curious designs in pearls. All wore ornaments of pearls, such as necklaces, armlets and anklets, the gems being of such size and color that I believe the humblest native in the line carried the equivalent of a fortune upon his person.
I watched the Pearl People for hours. Their marked characteristic seemed to be patience. Their features seemed finely cut and intelligent, but the members of the patrol were just now very apathetic, seldom changing their positions or indulging in the interchange of remarks. Their business was simply to wait, and they displayed marvelous resignation to duty. If they were curious they did not show it; if they resented this inactivity they gave the resentment no expression. Automatons could not have been more docile. Yet the Faytans struck me as being dignified, reserved and most admirably trained to obedience, while their stem countenances marked them as cold and cruel.
In the afternoon, while a dismal silence pervaded the ship, I was startled by hearing the clear tones of our piano. Some one began to play a spirited march, and of course I knew it was Lucia. The brave girl was trying to cheer us all with her music, and I am bound to admit it had an animating effect. For an hour she played and sang, choosing the most stirring tunes she knew, and when I finally went below I found all the passengers had gathered in the cabin with Joe and Uncle Naboth, while young Alfonso was joining in a Spanish madrigal that was popular in his own country and all thoughts of our precarious position seemed thrust into the background.
That evening De Jiminez played écarté with his mother while Madam de Alcantara was led to forget her fears far enough to read a book. We lighted the cabin brilliantly, making no further attempt to evade the watching eyes of the natives, and enjoyed a few hours of solace if not of pleasure.
Next day the waiting game was continued. South Sea natives seldom or never attack at night, according to Nux; but these Faytans were so unlike other savage tribes that we could not be sure this was one of their customs. So we divided the watch and kept a sharp lookout night and day.
CHAPTER 9
ALFONSO’S ANTOINETTE
Nothing happened this second day of our imprisonment. The Faytans evidently had some plan of campaign mapped out, or they would not have established the patrol of canoes. We began to consider what their intentions could be.
“Let’s give ‘em credit for a leetle intelligence,” said Uncle Naboth, who had been studying the natives through his binoculars. “The chief that runs this place must have some ability, and as soon as he discovered us here he must’ a’ thought it all out. Mebbe he lay awake doin’ it, for next momin’ we found them canoes on guard. That was the first trick in the game.”
“Not a bad one, either,” I remarked.
“Not from the chiefs standpoint. It kept us from escapin’ in the boats, which is the one thing, it seems, he don’t intend to let happen. Now, our boys here,” pointing to Bryonia and Nux, “have a notion that the Pearl People don’t want any strangers around. They never let ‘em land, if they can help it, and drive’ em away or kill ‘em. Accordin’ to that theory the Faytans ought to be glad to ha
ve us go. But here they are, keepin’ us fast prisoners. Why’s that, Bry?”
Bryonia had stood moodily silent. He now looked up and shook his head.
“Can’t say, Mars Nabot’,” he answered. But he spoke in a hesitating way that led me to think he preferred not to speak frankly.
“It’s really a puzzler,” resumed Uncle Naboth. “If they mean to kill us, why don’t they start in and fight it out?”
“Perhaps they realize our position is impregnable,” I suggested.
“It ain’t exactly that,” declared my uncle. “If they happen to think to shoot some burnin’ arrers at us, they can easily set fire to the ship, an’ then we’re done for.”
“Not knowin’ about ships, they may not think of that,” said my father, uneasily.
“Well, what then?” asked De Jiminez.
“Then,” replied Joe, “the wily islanders expect to conquer us in one of two ways. First to starve us out, and — ”
“They can’t do that in a hurry,” muttered the Captain.
“And second to let us die of thirst,” continued Joe.
We all became thoughtful at this suggestion. I knew we had supplies of fresh water sufficient for an ordinary voyage, and an aerator to doctor it with if it became stagnant and unpalatable; but barreled water is not the safest thing to depend upon, and thirst was a greater menace than lack of food. Yet it seemed improbable that a savage chieftain would have thought this all out and determined upon so tedious and unwarlike a plan of conquest.
Afterward I found Bryonia alone and said to him:
“Why do you think the Faytans wish to keep us here?”
“Don’ know, Mars Sam.”
“Yes, you do, Bry. Anyhow, you’ve some idea.”
“I may be wrong.”
“This is in confidence, Bry. You may trust me.”
He hesitated a moment.
“I wish, Mars Sam,” he said in a low voice, speaking his native tongue, “that the lady passengers had not showed themselves.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 722
