by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
STRIKING OUT.
Inspired to renewed energy, Captain Redwood rushed to the edge of thelagoon, with the view of ascertaining its depth, and seeing whether itmight possibly be waded.
He soon discovered that it could not. In less than ten paces from theedge he was up to the arm-pits, and from thence it seemed to deepenstill more abruptly. Another step forward, and the water rose over hisshoulders, the bottom still sloping downwards. The lagoon was evidentlyimpassable.
He drew back despairingly, though not to return to the shore. He stoodfacing the centre of the lagoon, whence still came the strange noises:though scarce so loud or varied as before, they did not appear to be anymore distant. Whatever creatures were making them, it was evident theywere stationary, either in the trees or upon the ground. They did notsound as if they came from on high; but this might be a deception,caused by the influence of the water. One of the voices bore a singularresemblance to that of a child. It could not be Helen's; it moreresembled the squalling of an infant. Saloo knew what it was. In theplaintive tones he recognised the scream of a young ourang-outang.
It was a proof his conjecture was true, and that the mias had reachedits home.
All the more anxious was Captain Redwood to reach the spot whence thesounds proceeded. Something like a presentiment had entered his mindthat there was still a hope, and that his child lived and might berescued.
Even if torn, injured, disfigured for life, she might survive. Any sortof life, so long as she could be recovered; and if she could not berestored, at least she might breathe her last breath in his arms. Eventhat would be easier to bear than the thought that she had gone to restin the grasp of the hirsute gorilla, with its hideous offspring grinningand gibbering around her.
The lagoon could not be waded on foot; but a good swimmer might crossit. The captain was an experienced and accomplished swimmer. Thevoices came from no great distance--certainly not above half a mile. Onone occasion he had accomplished a league in a rough sea! There couldbe no difficulty in doing as much on the smooth, tranquil water of thattree-shaded lake.
He had opened his arms and prepared to strike out, when a thought stayedhim. Saloo, who had waded to his side, also arrested him by laying ahand on his shoulder.
"You try swimmee, cappen, no good without weapon; we both go togedder--muss take gun, sumpitan, kliss, else no chance killee mias."
It was the thought that had occurred to Captain Redwood himself.
"Yes, you are right, Saloo. I must take my rifle, but how am I to keepit dry?--there's not time to make a raft."
"No raff need, cappen; givee me you gun--Saloo swim single-hand well astwo; he cally the gun."
Captain Redwood knew it to be true that Saloo, as he said, could swimwith one hand as well as he himself with both.
He was a Malay, to whom swimming in the water is almost as natural aswalking upon the land. His old pilot could scarcely have been drownedif he had been flung into the sea twenty miles from shore.
He at once yielded to Saloo's counsel; and both hastily returned to theedge of the lagoon to make preparations.
These did not occupy long. The captain threw off some of his clothes,stowed his powder-flask and some bullets in the crown of his hat, whichhe fastened firmly on his head. He retained a knife--intended in caseof necessity--to be carried between his teeth, giving his gun to Saloo.
The Malay, having less undressing to do, had already completed thearrangements. On the top of his turban, safely secured by a knotting ofhis long black hair, he had fastened his bamboo quiver of poisonedarrows; while his kris--with which a Malay under no circumstances thinksof parting--lay along his thigh, kept in position by the waist-strapused in suspending his _sarong_. With his sumpitan and the captain'sgun in his left hand, he was ready to take to the water. Not anothermoment was lost; the voices of the ourangs seemed to be calling them;and plunging through the shallow, they were soon out in deep water, andstriking steadily but rapidly, silently but surely, towards the centreof the lagoon.
Henry and Murtagh remained on the shore looking after them. Theship-carpenter was but an indifferent swimmer, and the youth was notstrong enough to have swam half a mile. It was doubtful if either couldhave reached the spot where the apes seemed to have made theirrendezvous. And if so, they would have been too exhausted to haverendered any service in case of a sudden conflict.
The brave Irishman, devoted to his old skipper, and Henry, anxious toshare his father's fate, would have made the attempt; but CaptainRedwood restrained them, directing both to await his return.
They stood close to the water's edge, following the swimmers with theireyes, and with prayers for their success, scarcely uttered in words, butfervently felt; Murtagh, according to the custom of his country andcreed, sealing the petition by making the sign of the cross.
