`Has the mako gone?' cried Ginger, the muscles of his face stiff with fear.
`Come quick, keep close, plenty big wave,' was all Shell-Breaker answered, and kicking off from the coral with his feet, he streaked again towards the cave. Ginger braced himself. Never in all his experience had he hated anything as much as the task that lay before him. But Shell-Breaker had gone, and clearly expected him to follow, so with a shudder of apprehension he dived in and struck out in the wake of the vague form which he could see some distance in front of him. Every moment he was prepared to see the shark loom up, but even this fear was soon half forgotten in a more pressing peril.
Unseen currents were forcing him against the coral side
of the cave. Twice he was carried back nearly to the grotto 96
by a surging flood of water, and then sucked towards the open lagoon by the tremendous backwash, as helpless as if he had been a piece of seaweed. He could only fight to keep himself clear of the rough coral, which would have torn his flesh had he collided with it, but at last an unusually vicious backwash shot him clear into the open and he struggled to the surface. He was almost spent, and clutched at the shoulder of Shell-Breaker who was waiting for him. The native at once struck out for the coral bank, against which waves were dashing in impotent fury.
How he got up the bank Ginger never knew. He had no clear recollection of anything except Shell-Breaker pushing him from behind and Full Moon dragging him up by the hair. Finally, a mighty wave cast them all up together, and they landed clear of the breakers bleeding from a dozen scratches. Shell-Breaker was in even worse case than Ginger, in spite of his ability in the water. Staggering to his feet he pointed to the centre of the cove, where, as the water rose and fell, a dark fin projected. Ginger was nearly sick with horror when he realized that the shark must have been there all the time, and he had been within twenty yards of it.
'Mako leave cave—plenty big fella sea,' muttered Shell-Breaker. Looking about him Ginger perceived for the first time the full force of the storm. The wind, which had now reached gale force, clutched at his body, and beat the palms so far over that their fronds swept the ground. The reef was hidden under monstrous seas that broke with a roar like thunder and flung spray a hundred feet into the air. The surface of the lagoon was being whipped into a smother of foam. Overhead the sky was flat grey. Ginger's heart sank, and he uttered a cry of despair, for he knew that the 'Scud' could not live in such a gale. The force of the cambers crashing on the beach was such that he knew without looking that if the flying-boat was still there it must be a tangle of fabric, wire, and three-ply. What were the others doing? He shouted to Full Moon and ShellBreaker that he was going, and bending forward into the wind he set off at a laborious run towards the camp. He soon came within sight of it—or of where it had been. There was nothing there. Only a pile of fallen palms,
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and a few scattered wooden cases, showed where the camp had been. Of Biggles, Algy, or Sandy there was no sign. Ginger let out a cry of despair. 'They've gone! ' he shouted. Heedless of the protests of Shell-Breaker and Full Moon, he forced his way along the beach just out of reach of the waves, looking for what he dreaded to find—the remains of the mangled flying-boat; but to his infinite relief he could see no signs of it. 'They must have gone when the storm started,' he told himself hopefully, and in order to confirm that they had not taken refuge elsewhere he dragged himself up the incline towards the centre of the island, ducking and dodging as coconuts and palm-fronds whirled past him. Not until he reached the ridge did he realize the full fury of the hurricane, for it was coming from that side of the island. The sea was a succession of giant cambers, their tops torn into spray, which made it impossible to see more than a few hundred yards. The waves, rearing high into the air, flung themselves towards the place where he stood. Already the whole side of the island was submerged, the waves breaking far above the place where their first load of shell had been stacked. As for the shell, it had all been swept away. More terrifying still, the whole island shook under the impact of the rollers, and in many places water-spouts shot high into the air from coral that was above the water-line. At first Ginger could not understand what caused this; then he realized that the sea was pouring under the island, into caves such as the one he had just left, and under the tremendous pressure was bursting through flaws in the coral. Every now and then a mass of coral would be flung into the air, as if by an explosion. Finding it difficult to remain on his feet, Ginger dropped on to his hands and knees, and clung to some lowgrowing shrubs to prevent himself from being blown away. Not until a mighty comber broke and raced up to the spot where he knelt, so that the foam surged right across the ridge, did he realize that he was in peril. Vaguely to his memory came something Sandy had said about big seas sweeping right across the islands. He turned his head to see what the others were doing and saw Shell-Breaker forcing his way towards him.
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As soon as he saw that Ginger was looking at him the Marquesan beckoned vigorously, and pointed to the palms. Knowing that there must be a reason for this Ginger made his way towards him, clutching at such handholds as he could find to check his headlong progress. He could no longer see Full Moon. Shell-Breaker's mouth was opening and shutting, and he knew that he was shouting, but he could hear nothing; the wind was snatching the words from his lips as fast as they were formed. The native, realizing the futility of attempting to speak, could only point towards a mass of coral, under which he crouched, and there. Ginger joined him.
The Marquesan cupped his hands round his mouth and shouted into Ginger's ear. 'When wind drop, big seas come.'
Ginger reversed the process. 'Bigger than these?'
`Yes, waves come right over island.' As if to confirm Shell-Breaker's words a giant wave did at that moment sweep right across the ridge and reach the lagoon on the far side.
`Come! ' shouted Shell-Breaker.
Ginger followed him to the palms. The nuts had ceased to fly, for they were all on the ground. He saw Full Moon clinging to one of the thickest boles. She had evidently been busy, for a series of notches had been cut in the smooth trunk nearly up to the swaying crown. She still gripped her knife in her hand. Round her body was a length of rope which she must have found on the site of the camp. She was now knotting it into a double coil.
When she saw Ginger and Shell-Breaker coming she arranged the coils round her body and the trunk of the palm, and indicated that Ginger was to go with her. Ginger, still not quite sure what was expected of him, joined the girl at the palm. She did not speak. She pushed him inside the coil of rope, and, starting to climb, motioned him to do the same. So, with the rope round both their bodies, and the trunk of the palm between them, they began to mount.
To Ginger it was a nightmare journey. The violent swaying of the palm, the tearing of the wind, the noise, and the flying debris were beyond human imagination; and as they mounted slowly towards the threshing fronds.
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the imminent prospect of a fall into the depths below did nothing to allay Ginger's fears. Full Moon glanced upwards, and evidently decided that they were close enough to the great fronds to make further progress doubly dangerous, for she started tightening the rope, lashing them both to the bole. Ginger could only admire the efficiency with which she went about a task which would have made many experienced sailors pause. Finally, she took her knife and hacked furiously at the trunk immediately above them, so that the chips whirled away in the wind. When she was half-way through it a tremendous gust tore away the crown bodily, and the green mass disappeared into the driving spindrift. The palm, relieved of its dragging weight, at once leapt to a vertical position, and without offering any appreciable resistance to the wind remained more or less stationary. A minute later Ginger saw the wisdom of her action in cutting off the top of the palm, when another one, not far away, snapped off short just above the roots and disap-peared into the seething lagoon. Another followed it soon after. Looking down he saw that the whole island w
as now buried under a raging sea of water, as the breakers swept it from side to side. Turning his head with difficulty he could just make out Shell-Breaker. He had lashed himself to another palm with his pareu, and was hacking at the crown as Full Moon had done. Suddenly it was whipped away, and he was left clinging to the stump, like a bear up a pole. His face twisted into a smile when he saw Ginger looking at him, and Ginger smiled back, although his mood was anything but gay. 'My gosh! these kids have got some courage,' he thought admiringly.
They could do nothing except cling to the tree, and so to some extent prevent the rope from chafing them. An hour passed, two hours, and then, amazingly, there was a sudden lull. The wind died away altogether. Immediately overhead there appeared a round patch of blue sky.
Ginger shouted in relief, but Full Moon shook her head. `Plenty wind bymeby,' she said. '
Centre of storm. Soon he pass, then plenty wind.'
Ginger understood vaguely what she meant, and goon discovered that she was right, for the lull, which was the centre of the hurricane, did not last long. The blue sky 100
disappeared, and the wind returned with as much violence as before. Hour after hour it raged, its force slowly weakening as the centre of the hurricane swept on over the ocean, but at a time that Ginger judged to be about four o'clock the gale had dropped to no more than a steady breeze punctuated by occasional gusts. He was more than a little thankful, for' he was exhausted with the strain. He was hungry and thirsty as well as tired, for he had had neither food nor sleep for many hours. His thirst was aggravated by the salt spray which still filled the air, but there was as yet no question of leaving his refuge, for as the wind dropped so did the size of the mighty Pacific rollers increase. The whole island rocked under their weight as they streamed across the ridge, carrying all before them. The sand and shell-dust which formed the subsoil, and the herbage that grew on it, were swept away, leaving the foundation of coral exposed. Piles of sand, stone, and seaweed were flung up where before there had been none. Water boiled up through the coral as the seas drove under it. Only a few palms remained standing. Not until evening did the clouds break and the crimson orb of the sun appear, far down in the west. By that time the waves were subsiding. By nightfall only an occasional breaker managed to reach the ridge, and by then its force was too far spent for it to be dangerous, so Ginger, with Full Moon's approval, made his way stiffly to the ground. He was encrusted with salt; his hair and eyebrows were stiff with it. He ached in every limb. The others joined him, but they did not share his depression. As far as they were concerned the storm had passed and they had survived, so there was no need to worry any more about it. Even when Ginger pointed out that all the fresh water on the island would certainly be tainted with salt, they only laughed.
Slowly, they made their way through a scene of utter ruin to the site of the camp. It was by no means easy to find, for the whole shape of the island had altered. Masses of coral had disappeared entirely, while sand had been torn from one place and flung up in another. Palms and the fronds that had been stripped from them lay about in wild confusion. Huge masses of seaweed and shells of all shapes 102
and sizes were strewn about over everything. Over them crawled countless crabs, seaslugs, and other marine creatures, all making their way back to the sea from which they had been thrown.
Dragging the trailing seaweed aside Ginger groped about on the site of the camp and managed to find a few odds and ends. A case of bully beef had been wedged into a lump of coral; a few tins of condensed milk, biscuits and similar commodities lay half-buried in the sand. Borrowing Full Moon's knife he cut open a tin of beef and another of biscuits, but he soon found that his mouth was too parched to eat, so he made his way to the spring from where they had obtained the fresh water. It was no longer there. The spot was buried under many tons of sand.
Ginger looked at Shell-Breaker with startled eyes. 'If we can't get water we shall soon die of thirst,' he said.
Full Moon only laughed. 'No die,' she said. 'Plenty drink,' she went on, picking up one of the many coconuts that lay on the ground. Taking her knife she cut the top off one with an expert slash, and passed it to Ginger, who was far too thirsty to be embarrassed by his exhibition of ignorance. He emptied the shell and picked up another. Never had anything tasted so delicious as the milky juice. The other two were also drinking, and he derived consolation from the realization that they would not starve or die of thirst while the nuts held out.
For a long time they sat in silence, nibbling a curious meal of bully beef, biscuit, and coconut. When it was finished Ginger gazed out across the moonlit sea for a little while, wondering what had become of Biggles, and deploring the tragic ending of their expedition. Presently, looking round at the others, he saw that they were both lying down, sleeping peacefully. 'I might as well join them,' he thought, and stretched himself out on the damp sand.
G INGER was the first to wake in the morning. He opened his eyes and lay still for a minute or two staring at the blue sky, worried by a sense of something wrong. Then, in a flash, he remembered everything. He did not move. There seemed to be no reason why he should. The air was fresh; the breeze was no more than a caress, and the warm sun soothed his tired body. So he lay still on his back, hands under his head, trying to get events into some sort of order. What had happened to the others, he reasoned correctly, was this. When he and the two natives did not return, Biggles would at once make a search. In the ordinary way no great harm would have been done by their enforced absence, but the coming of the hurricane altered everything. In order to save the machine Biggles had been obliged to abandon them, and fly the 'Scud' to a safer anchorage, in which case he would soon reappear. In fact, he might come back at any moment. He did not believe that Biggles had been taken unawares by the hurricane, and the 'Scud'
destroyed. However, the fact remained that he and the two Marque-sans were marooned, and could do nothing but await the arrival of a rescue party. That sooner or later it would come he had no doubt.
Full Moon opened her, eyes and smiled up at him. Stretching, she sat up, her eyes wandering out over the lagoon. Suddenly she stopped, tense, rigid. Into her eyes came the shadow of fear. Àtanelli, he come,' she hissed.
Ginger sat up as if he had been propelled by a spring, and followed the direction of her eyes. A schooner, obviously in a bad way if not actually in distress, was making her way carefully through the entrance to the lagoon under a few strips of ragged sail. That it was the Avarata was beyond doubt. For a second Ginger stared at 104
it, hardly able to believe his eyes or make up his mind what to do. First of all he awakened Shell-Breaker by striking him on the leg, which happened to be the only part of his body within reach. 'Shell-Breaker, wake up!' he said tersely. Àtanelli is here.'
Shell-Breaker sat up, wide awake on the instant. He gazed out across the lagoon. Aue!
Plenty bad,' he said.
`Don't move, they may not have seen us,' said Ginger. `Let me think. What is the best thing to do? If he doesn't know we are here he may soon go.'
Shell-Breaker shook his head. 'No go,' he said. Avarata been in a hurricane. Plenty damage. He stay long time, maybe.'
'In which case they'll come ashore for water and nuts,' reflected Ginger. He thought swiftly, looking about for some place of concealment. 'Let us get over the other side of the ridge,' he said at last, in desperation, and began squirming through the debris towards the far beach. Every moment he expected to hear a shout announcing that they were discovered, but if they were, no sign of it was given, and they crawled over the ridge where, of course, they could not be seen from the lagoon. As soon as they were out of view of the schooner Ginger got up and ran to the farthest end of the island and, finding a hiding-place among the coral, turned to watch the schooner. It was just dropping anchor in the lagoon. The tattered sails lay about the deck. Over them walked the Solomon Island boys, in a listless fashion, as though they were exhausted. Castanelli was leaning against the wheel.
; Having nothing else to do Ginger lay still, his eyes on the schooner, anxious to know what Castanelli would do next. There was just a chance, he thought, that the Corsican might depart after a short rest, for the sea outside the lagoon was going down fast. But this hope was soon squashed. Having got the deck of the schooner more or less shipshape Castanelli ordered a dinghy to be lowered—his voice reached the watchers clearly—and he was soon being rowed to the island by two members of his crew. Ginger bit his lip. 'I'm afraid we're in for a bit of bad luck,' he said. `Castanelli must know that this is the island near the pearl-bed; even if he doesn't recognize it he must 105
know that it is somewhere in this district. He may have got the taint of rotting oysters either before or after the hurricane blew up; maybe it brought him here.'
Neither Full Moon nor Shell-Breaker had anything to say about this, so, continuing watching, they saw Castanelli step ashore and commence a systematic search along the lagoon side of the island. He soon found the wrecked camp, and stood smoking a cigar while his boys dragged the debris aside to disclose the remains of the stores. Suddenly he stopped and picked something up, something that flashed in the sunlight. Ginger knew what it was. The shell that had been stacked on that side of the island had been strewn all over the place; he remembered seeing several among the seaweed. Castanelli had found one, and Ginger realized that it would settle any doubts in his mind about the last occupants of the island. Mortified, but helpless to prevent it, Ginger watched Castanelli show the shell to his boys before tossing it on one side. Fortunately, it did not occur to Ginger that the pearls might still be in the cache, or his depression would have been worse, for the Corsican was standing within a yard of the spot where they had been buried.
Biggles In the South Seas Page 11
