Part 24 (1/2)

”We ought to come above the waterfall by and by,” said Elizabeth in a whisper.

Her sense of locality had not deceived her. In a few minutes they heard the musical plas.h.i.+ng of the water. Keeping this sound on their right, they went on, guessing that the native hut must be at some distance below them, nearer the sea. As they went on, in silence, they came suddenly to what appeared to be the opening of a large cave in the face of the cliff. They shrank back, wondering if this was a dwelling of some of the inhabitants; but taking courage from the perfect stillness they ventured to pa.s.s the opening and continued their descent towards the sea.

Presently, round a bend of the cliff, they saw the native hut, nestling at the foot of the rocky precipice, two or three hundred yards away.

The sun was very near its setting, and its last rays being intercepted by the high ground in the centre of the island, the light was already dim at the point at which they had arrived. To gain the cove they would have to descend a little lower and then cross through a clump of trees. As they approached this, Tommy, whose keen eyes were restlessly searching the neighbourhood, declared that she had caught sight of a small figure flitting among the trees beyond the hut. They all halted and gazed anxiously towards the spot she pointed out; but no form, human or otherwise, was now to be seen. There was the hut just as they had seen it before, but no person was visible, nor even the smoke of a fire.

Fearing that it would be quite dark before they reached the cove they hurried on. The remaining distance was greater than Elizabeth had supposed, and the clump of trees more extensive. As they pa.s.sed through this, the hut now being hidden from sight, they were more circ.u.mspect than ever. At last they reached the end of it, and halting for another look round, they hastened on towards the sandy beach where they had left the boat.

It was not many minutes before they saw, with a pang of disappointment, that the boat was certainly not where it had been.

”Let's go back,” whispered Tommy; ”you know you promised.”

”But there is no danger yet, child,” replied Elizabeth somewhat impatiently. ”We might at least see if it is anywhere about.”

She went on in advance of the others, and almost shouted for joy when she caught sight of the boat drawn up in a snug little recess. She beckoned the girls to join her, and as they came up, pointed with some excitement to a small native canoe that lay a few feet beyond their own boat. Tommy gave a startled gasp.

”There are savages,” she whispered; ”oh, do let us go. I know we shall be caught.”

”We won't go without the boat,” said Elizabeth fiercely. ”Quick! It's bound to make a sc.r.a.ping sound as we drag it down; but it's very near the water, and before any one can reach us from the hut we shall be afloat.”

With nervous energy they drew the boat down to the water, sprang into it, and, in a state of fearful joy, Elizabeth began to pull from the sh.o.r.e.

”Steer close in, Tommy,” she said, ”or we shall be in the current.

There's only half-an-hour of daylight left, but if I pull hard we shall be home almost as soon as it is dark. Mind the rocks.”

Mary, the only unoccupied member of the party, kept her eyes fixed on the sh.o.r.e.

”I see some one,” she called suddenly; ”there, just by those cocoa-nuts.”

Tommy turned quickly. In the gathering dusk she was unable at first to see the object to which Mary pointed; but presently she distinguished, peeping round the stem of a palm not fifty yards away, a little brown face surmounted by a mop of very black hair.

”There it is,” she cried, ”the same that I saw before. Pull hard, Bess; they'll be after us in their canoe.”

Elizabeth suspected that the native craft would be much speedier than their own little tub, and, fearful of pursuit, plied her sculls l.u.s.tily. As the boat drew away, the head moved; a shoulder appeared; then a complete body, which came slowly down to the edge of the sh.o.r.e.

”I believe it's a girl!” exclaimed Mary.

But in the fading light it was impossible to see distinctly, and they had no temptation to delay, even though Mary's exclamation had aroused their curiosity. The figure was soon completely out of sight. Tommy had to keep all her attention fixed on the task of steering, for they had never rowed along this part of the sh.o.r.e, which was much broken by projecting rocks.

”Are you sure it was not the man we saw before?” asked Elizabeth.

”I don't think it was,” said Mary. ”It seemed smaller. I wonder if it was a girl?”

”We are making surprising discoveries,” said Elizabeth. ”No one is chasing us, at any rate. Can we have been scared all this time by a girl?”

Tommy said nothing. The figure had appeared to be about her own height. Was it possible that the little brown face which had so much frightened her, and which she had seen with horror in her dreams, belonged to a young girl like herself? She felt a strange longing to know.

CHAPTER XVII