Part 5 (2/2)
”True for ye,” chimed in Larry; ”an' who knows, if they did see it, but they might take it for the moon in a fog--or for a volkainy?”
”Wouldn't the best way to settle the matter be to kindle the fire just now, before it grows dark,” suggested Will Osten, ”so that they will have a chance of seeing the smoke, and then, when it grows dark, the fire will be getting brighter?”
”Right, doctor, you're right. Come, we'll put the light to it at once,”
cried the captain, rising. ”Hand me the match-box, Mr Cupples; it's in the head o' the bread cask.”
The whole party rose and went to the pile of timber, which was on the highest part of the islet and towered to a height of nearly twelve feet.
Captain Dall applied a match to the tarry pieces of the long-boat, which had been placed at the foundation, and the flames at once leaped up and began to lick greedily round the timber, winding through the interstices and withering up the leaves. Soon a thick smoke began to ascend, for much of the timber in the pile was green, and before the sun had set a dense black cloud was rising straight up like a pillar and spreading out into the sky. As the fire gathered strength, a great tongue of flame flashed up ever and anon into the midst of the rolling cloud and rent it for a single instant; by degrees those tongues waged fierce war with the smoke. They shot through it more and more frequently, licked and twined round it--in and out--until they gained the mastery at last, and rose with a magnificent roar into the heavens.
Then it was that Larry O'Hale gave vent to his excitement and admiration in an irrepressible shout, and his comrades burst into a mingled cheer and fit of laughter, as they moved actively round the blazing ma.s.s and stirred it into fiercer heat with boat-hooks and oars.
When night had closed in, the brilliancy of the bonfire was intense, and the hopes of the party rose with the flames, for they felt certain that any human beings who chanced to be within fifty miles of them could not fail to see the signal of distress.
So the greater part of the night was pa.s.sed in wild excitement and energetic action. At last, exhausted yet hopeful, they left the bonfire to burn itself out and sat down to watch. During the first half-hour they gazed earnestly over the sea, and so powerfully had their hopes been raised, that they expected to see a s.h.i.+p or a boat approaching every minute. But ere long their hopes sank as quickly as they had been raised. They ceased to move about and talk of the prospect of speedy deliverance. The hearts of men who have been long exposed to the depressing influence of ”hope deferred,” and whose frames are somewhat weakened by suffering and insufficient food, are easily chilled. One after another they silently crept under the sail, which had been spread out in the form of a tent to shelter them, and with a sigh lay down to rest. Weariness and exposure soon closed their eyes in ”kind Nature's sweet restorer--balmy sleep,” and the coral island vanished utterly from their minds as they dreamed of home, and friends, and other days. So, starving men dream of sumptuous fare, and captives dream of freedom.
Will Osten was last to give way to the feeling of disappointment, and last to lie down under the folds of the rude tent. He was young, and strong, and sanguine. It was hard for one in whose veins the hot blood careered so vigorously to believe in the possibility of a few days reducing him to the weakness of infancy--harder still for him to realise the approach of death; yet, when he lay meditating there in the silence of the calm night, a chill crept over his frame, for his judgment told him that if a merciful G.o.d did not send deliverance, ”the end” was a.s.suredly drawing very nigh.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
IN WHICH OUR HERO SUGGESTS A PLAN WHICH GETS THE PARTY OUT OF ONE DIFFICULTY BUT PLUNGES THEM INTO ANOTHER.
How long Wandering Will would have lain in the midst of his slumbering comrades, indulging in gloomy reveries, it is impossible to say, for he was suddenly startled out of them by the appearance of a black object on the sea, at a considerable distance from the sh.o.r.e. Will's couch was near the open entrance to the tent, and from the spot where his head lay pillowed on his coat, he could see the lagoon, the opening in the reef, and the ocean beyond. He rose softly, but quickly, and went out to a.s.sure himself that his disturbed fancy had not misled him. No--there could be no doubt about it. Grey dawn was already breaking, and enabled him to see it distinctly--a dark moving speck on the sea far outside the reef. It could not be a gull or sea-bird, he felt persuaded; neither was it a s.h.i.+p, for his eye during the voyage had become a practised one in observing distant vessels. It might be a boat!
Full of this idea, and trembling with hope and anxiety, he returned to the tent, and gently awoke the captain.
”s.h.!.+ don't speak,” he whispered, laying his hand on the captain's mouth.
”I'm convinced it is a boat,” continued Will, as he stood beside the now smouldering fire, while the captain gazed long and earnestly through his telescope at the object on the sea.
”You're only half-right,” said the other, with unusual seriousness, as he handed the gla.s.s to his companion; ”it's a canoe--a large one, I think, and apparently full of men; but we shan't be left long in doubt as to that; our fire has evidently attracted them, and now we must prepare for their reception.”
”Do you then doubt their friendliness?” asked Will, returning the gla.s.s to the captain, who again examined the approaching canoe carefully.
”Whether they shall turn out to be friends or foes, doctor, depends entirely on whether they are Christians or heathens. If the missionaries have got a footing amongst 'em, we are saved; if not--I wouldn't give much for our chance of seeing Old England again.”
The captain's voice dropped as he said this, and his face was overspread with an expression of profound gravity.
”Do you _really_ believe in all the stories we have heard of the blood-thirstiness of these savages, and their taste for human flesh?”
asked Will, with some anxiety.
”Believe them!” exclaimed the captain, with a bitter, almost ferocious laugh; ”of course I do. I have _seen_ them at their b.l.o.o.d.y work, lad.
It's all very well for sh.o.r.e-goin' folk in the old country to make their jokes about `Cold missionary on the sideboard,' and to sing of the `King of the Cannibal Islands;' but, as sure as there is a sky over your head, and a coral island under your feet, so certainly do the South Sea savages kill, roast, and eat their enemies, and so fond are they of human flesh that, when they can't get hold of enemies, they kill and eat their slaves. Look, you can make out the canoe well enough now without the gla.s.s; she's makin' straight for the opening in the reef. The sun will be up in half an hour, and they'll arrive about the same time.
Come, let us rouse the men.”
Hastening down to the tent, the captain raised the curtain, and shouted hoa.r.s.ely--
”Hallo, lads, turn out there--turn out. Here's a canoe in sight--look alive!”
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