Back in their cells they were given for breakfast bowls of maize porridge and tea. At eight o’clock they were let out for an hour’s exercise, being made to walk and run alternately in single file round the compound. The midday meal consisted of a hot stew containing both meat and vegetables, a pancake for pudding and two bananas. At five o’clock they were again let out, this time for a game of volley-ball, then, after taking a shower, they were brought their evening meal—cold pork, yam, and a sort of fruit salad consisting largely of diced coconut.
In the intervals between exercising and meals Gregory had plenty of time to contemplate the possibility of escape. An attempt to suppress and overcome the guard who brought the meals was out of the question. Even if that could be done there were plenty of others about, all of them armed, and he had no doubt at all that they would not hesitate to use their weapons. An attempt at bribery appeared equally hopeless, as none of those to whom he had spoken understood English, French or German, and his Russian was so limited that he could not have put up a proposition to one of them. Even when he had tried to get them to fetch the French Captain, so that he could ask him for the loan of a few books, as a lead in possibly establishing regular communication with him, they had only shaken their heads, not in refusal but clearly because he had failed to make them understand his request.
Short, therefore, of some unforeseen development, there remained only the possibilty of finding some way to break out of his cell during the night. As the prison was a modern one, the lock on the cell door was prisoner-proof, a steel plate covering the whole inner side, so that no keyhole offered any opportunity to pick the lock from within. The floor was solid cement, making it impossible to dig a tunnel; so were the walls. The ceilings were corrugated asbestos, so could not be broken through without some heavy tool. But the grilles …?
Gregory’s keenly searching eye had lit on the sector in which the prison architect had slipped up, and he smiled to himself. The wire mesh-covered grilles on all four sides of the cell were each kept in place by from eight to twelve fair-sized screws. They had only to be removed and the grilles could be lifted out. Fortunately, too, the cell on his other side from James was unoccupied; so if he could get to work on the screws there was no-one there who might give away what he was doing and, as the guards never made a round of the cells after midnight, no fear of interruption.
But had the architect really slipped up, or had he simply settled for the cheapest way of securing the grilles? The prison would have been originally designed only for defaulting soldiers. Should a Russian private or N.C.O. show the initiative to break prison, which in itself was unlikely, what chance would he stand of escaping from a tropical island? That, and the harsh punishment he might expect if caught, were the real deterrents; and Gregory had no illusions about the difficulty of getting away from Yuloga. But, regarding himself as considerably more resourceful than the average Russian peasant in uniform, he comforted himself by recalling Napoleon’s saying, ‘It will be time to talk of the Vistula when we are over the Rhine.’
As James was in the next cell there was nothing to stop their talking and if they stood on their beds they could even see each other through the grille above the dividing wall. That night, adopting this means of coming face to face so that they could keep their voices low, Gregory told James of his plan and that the first thing needed was something with which to loosen the screws. Neither of them had anything in his possession that would serve, but they agreed to keep their eyes open.
On the third evening James was lucky. While they were playing volley-ball he saw on the ground a small half-moon of shining metal. It was the worn-down part-heel with which Russian soldiers’ boots are reinforced, and this one had come off. Pretending to slip and fall, he palmed it; then, a few minutes later, bumped into Gregory and passed it to him.
The cells were longer than they were broad, so the grille in the outer wall had only eight screws in it; but, having only a small implement which was awkward to handle and, even standing on his bed, only being just able to reach the top three screws near the ceiling, it took him several hours’ work during two nights before he had all the screws loosened.
The following day he passed the worn metal heel to James so that he could start work on his grille, but he had no intention of waiting until his friend could accompany him on a first reconnaissance. Gregory had always maintained that, in inverse ratio to the old saying ‘one boy working in a garden is a boy and two boys only half a boy’, two operatives working together doubled the danger to each of them, so, whenever possible, he had played the role of a lone wolf.
That night, having waited until well after midnight, he removed the grille. Standing on his bed, he peered cautiously out. Having made certain that no sentry was patrolling outside the prison, he had no difficulty in straddling the exposed top of the wall and dropping down on the other side.
After listening intently for a few minutes, he made his way slowly round the perimeter of the military establishment, watching every step and, instead of walking toe and heel, putting his feet down flat. A few lights were on here and there, but no-one was about, so he edged his way between some buildings until he could get a view of the office block in which he and James had been interrogated. In front of it a sentry was patrolling. Satisfied now that provided they kept outside the area of buildings there was nothing to stop their getting away into the jungle, he returned to the prison, climbed back into his cell and, while replacing the grating, told James, who had been anxiously awaiting his return, what he had so far discovered.
Next night he went out again. On his first reconnaissance he had seen that, while several tracks led out from the settlement, all except one were dirt roads. The exception was metalled. It led uphill out of the valley and he followed it until he reached the crest of the ridge. From there he could see down into another valley. A rising moon now lit it quite clearly and, as he had expected, he was able to verify a supposition he had formed on finding that the island was garrisoned by Russians. The moonlight revealed blocks of hutments, tall gantries and a number of great launching pads from several of which there rose giant rockets. Clearly the French had allowed the Russians to take over Yuloga as a base for launching inter-continental missiles. It was no wonder that the Russians were taking such extreme precautions to ensure that no-one landed on the island without their knowledge and to protect the secret of their presence there by arbitrarily detaining anyone who came ashore.
Cautiously advancing further to get a closer look, Gregory disturbed a parrot roosting on the branch of a nearby tree. The bird flew off with a squawk. A moment later a challenge rang out from only twenty yards ahead. Instantly Gregory froze and held his breath, his heart hammering wildly. The challenge came again, then heavy footsteps advanced towards him. He felt a terrible urge to turn and run, but fought it down. The footsteps stopped. There fell an utter silence. For ten minutes that seemed an age he remained absolutely motionless. The sound of footsteps came again, but this time they were moving away. For another ten minutes he stayed completely still, breathing gently but evenly. Then he turned and, placing each foot with the greatest care, slowly stole away, blessing the bird that had saved him from running slap into the sentry. Three-quarters of an hour later he was safely back in his cell.
By this time, James’ greater height having enabled him to loosen more easily the top screws securing the grille in his cell, he had freed it. Now they could both leave the prison any night they liked; but, as they were quite reasonably treated there, to leave it for the jungle would have been pointless, and they were still faced with the much more difficult problem of how to get away from the island.
James produced the idea that the solution was to get in touch with the natives. It seemed certain that an island of that size must have long been inhabited and, although the dialect of the natives in each island differed, he felt confident that he would be able to enlist their help.
Gregory agreed, and it was decided that James should explore
the surrounding country until he came upon a village of some size where the headman could put him in touch with the High Chief. But Gregory would not allow him to start on his quest for the time being, because the moon was waxing and during its bright period he feared that James would run too great a risk of being spotted by a Russian sentry.
From time to time it rained and on three nights in the next ten the sky was overcast, which enabled James to sally forth without undue danger; but total darkness proved a severe handicap and he did not succeed in finding a native village.
When the moon began to rise later, James went out every night. On one expedition he found a village up in the hills, but it was deserted. Then, three nights afterwards, having followed the valley for three miles to the sea, he came upon half a hundred or more bures sited on the estuary of a small river. But they, too, had been abandoned. The size of the place seemed to indicate that it was the principal township of the island, so, when he discussed his findings with Gregory, they came to the conclusion that, to make certain of guarding their secrets, the French had evacuated the whole native population of the island.
This was a sad setback, as they had hoped the natives would provide them with a canoe in which to get away. It then occurred to Gregory that they might not have taken all their canoes with them. So James went again to the township and returned to report with no signs of satisfaction that, some way up a creek, he had come upon a boathouse in which a large canoe was chocked up.
When Gregory asked why he showed no pleasure in his find he replied, ‘Because she is a thirty-foot war canoe, and much too heavy for the two of us to launch. What is more, her great sail is half rotten and without a sail we could not possibly get more than a few hundred yards in her.’
This gave Gregory furiously to think. The Robertson brothers had proved likeable fellows and very pleasant to exchange snatches of talk with while in the wash-house or during exercise periods; but, adhering to his sound conviction that the more people there were privy to a plot, the greater the danger of its discovery, he had strictly forbidden James to say anything to the Australians about their nightly excursions. However, now that their help was necessary to carry out his plans he was by no means sorry that circumstances forced him to give them this chance of joining in an attempt to escape.
Next day they were guardedly let into the secret, and Willy was slipped the metal half-heel so that the brothers could unscrew the grilles in their cells. It took them four nights and on the fifth they accompanied James down to the boathouse. When they got back James passed on to Gregory the views of these seasoned Pacific copra traders. They were confident that, with rollers, the four of them could launch the big canoe, but the sail remained a problem. It was useless as it was, but could be repaired if tapa cloth was available; and they had found that there was plenty of that in good condition to be had from some of the larger bures, where it had been used for decoration. However, only men skilled in such work were capable of making good the great sail. The brothers were not, but they said that their two Melanesian crew men, Woggy and Punch, could do the job if Gregory was willing to include them in the party.
Reluctant as Gregory was to do so, he saw no alternative; so, on the Robertsons’ vouching for the loyalty of their two Melanesians, they were in turn lent the precious steel half-heel that was the key to liberty.
By the time they had both got their gratings unscrewed, the bright period of the moon had come again and for the ten days that followed Gregory would not allow any of them to risk leaving the prison. At length this tiresome wait was over, but even then Gregory was averse to more of the escape party being absent from the prison on any one night, in order to minimise the risk of their all being detected should the guards at any time become suspicious and make a night inspection. So Willy alone took the two Melanesians down to the township.
That night they first inspected the canoe, then spent two hours collecting tapa cloth from the bures. Woggy and Punch had pointed out that needles and fibre twine would be needed to mend the sail. The former they could soon cut from bamboos, but if they had to collect the right form of tough liana, then shred it to make the twine, that would take a considerable time. However, on their second night down there with Willy they were lucky, as they came upon a long coil of twine in the back of the boathouse. Nevertheless, as between going and returning they could not safely work for more than two hours each night, it was six nights before they finished patching the great sail to their satisfaction.
Gregory’s next concern was how to plan their get-away. According to James, Yuloga was not a large island. It therefore seemed probable that the Russians had posts and searchlight stations covering every sector of the coast; so there was a very considerable risk that, as the big canoe emerged from the mouth of the river, it would be spotted and their attempt to escape brought to nought. In order to estimate their chances Gregory decided that, on the last night that the Melanesians were working on the sail, he and James should carry out a reconnaissance.
A quarter of an hour after Woggy and Punch had set out, Gregory and James left the prison together and walked in company down to the deserted town. There, while Gregory remained on the right bank of the river, James swam across to the left. They then set out to explore their respective sides of the coast.
Working his way through the fringe of jungle, Gregory had gone no more than a quarter of a mile before he came upon a searchlight party. Fortunately, the sound of men talking warned him in time to halt, then go down on his hands and knees and cautiously worm his way forward until he could get a view of the Russians. Near a searchlight on a tripod, four of them were seated round a small fire, quietly smoking and making an occasional remark. Gloomily he noted that the searchlight was in a position to sweep the estuary of the river and that it was well within range of a machine gun which had been set up nearby.
Withdrawing with equal caution, he walked back to the creek up which the canoe house lay. Willy and Frank Robertson had been taking it in turns to accompany the Melanesians, in order to take charge should these simple men run into a Russian on their way to or from their work, or be surprised at it, and Frank was with them that night. From the amount of patching that had been required, Gregory saw that they must have worked hard; but, as with any of the party who went out at night, there were many hours each day when, locked in their separate cells, they could make up for lost sleep.
He was just about to praise them for their work when he caught the sound of distant shots, then the rattle of a submachine gun. That could only mean that James had run into trouble. Gregory’s heart missed a beat. He had become very fond of the cheerful young Ratu, and the thought that he might now be lying dead in the jungle or on the beach distressed him terribly.
At the same moment Frank exclaimed, ‘That shooting must have been at Johnny Olourna! Hope to God they didn’t get him.’
Gregory moved quickly towards the entrance of the canoe house. ‘I must go and find out. He may have got away but be lying wounded in the bushes and need help.’
‘No!’ Frank caught him by the arm. ‘Don’t go yet, George. Maybe he’s got away unhurt. If so, in half an hour he’ll be back here. If you go after him you can’t shout his name or they’ll be on to you too, and you may easily miss him. Besides, you’re our leader. ‘We’re relying on you to get us away from this damned island. ‘Twouldn’t be fair to the rest of us to risk yourself while there’s a chance that Johnny will get back all right.’
Seeing the sense of the argument, Gregory reluctantly agreed. With Frank, he walked along to the big cluster of bures on the river bank and, standing in the shadow of one of them, they waited anxiously. For the first time Gregory regretted having backed James in his project of salvaging the gold from the Reina Maria Amalia. He had done so in the first place simply as a new interest to relieve his boredom. Then it had developed into an exciting intrigue in which he had found himself up against Lacost and later de Carvalho. But in Noumea, owing to James’ passion for Olinda, things ha
d suddenly taken a shockingly bad turn, and already landed them for seven weeks in prison. De Carvalho was probably dead, so James, if caught, was liable to be charged with murder. The Brazilian had said that he did not mean to hurry about exercising his licence to salvage the gold, because he was confident that the French Resident would prevent the Colons from raising it illegally and that, fed up, they would abandon the idea, leaving him a free field. During the interval Lacost might have decided to ignore the Resident and by now have made off with it. Or, if de Carvalho had died and Lacost had learned of it, by this time he might somehow have acquired the licence. So, after all these weeks, the chances of James’ securing the treasure seemed extremely slender. Instead, as had so often happened in other cases, it might well be that the pursuit of gold would cost the charming young Ratu his life.
After twenty minutes Frank’s keen eyes detected a movement on the far bank of the river. Next moment there was a splash and a glitter of phosphorus in the churned-up water made them feel sure that it was James swimming across. Running forward they helped him up the steep bank. Grinning and unwounded, he panted:
‘That was a nasty one. They nearly got me. There is a searchlight party a mile or more away, round the end of the point, covering the next bay. They were dozing and I nearly walked right into them, but I pulled up in time and dashed back into thicker cover.’
The White Witch of the South Seas Page 18
