Part 28 (1/2)

Our mercy was excessively meagre in this instance.

These canoes are merely planks of wood fas.h.i.+oned with knives and fire, and lashed together by means of pieces of skin.

It took us no great length of time to dismember them, nor to launch the pieces into the stream afterwards.

”And now,” said Ritchie, ”the forest itself is our princ.i.p.al danger.

These chaps'll be all about us to-morrow morning early, like bluebottles round a dead mouse: more'll come to help them, and the bush 'll be their cover. We'll fire it. The wind is favourable.”

”It really is a pity,” I remarked, half seriously, ”to spoil this scenery.”

”Come,” was all my companion added.

So well and willingly did we both work, that in less that half an hour we had fired the forest in five different places. The amount of underwood and of fallen decayed trees was very great, so that the very earth itself would undoubtedly smoulder and burn for days, thus affording us protection from the savages.

I have seen many a conflagration in my time, but none, I think, so awful as that.

So closely did the fire rage around us at one time and so great was the heat, that we were considering whether we should not launch our boat and put out to sea. From the high cliff above us burning branches ever came toppling down, but these were easily removed.

Then the fire receded, and attacked the glen above and around the bay, the crackling and roaring of the flames became indescribable; tongues of fire seeming also to be carried away with the clouds of rolling smoke, as if even that itself were ablaze. Ritchie and I both stood appalled to behold the vastness of the ruin our work had effected.

Long after the flames had left them, and gone over the hill and high up the valley towards the snow-line, the st.u.r.dy arms of the beech-trees stretched out red against a background of black, and every now and then a limb would fall with a loud report, sending up volumes of ashes, smoke, and sparks.

Whether or not on the first outbreak of the fire, the savages had left their fearful orgies and made a rush to the spot where they had left their canoes can never be known. It was evident enough by next morning, nevertheless, that they had found out we were in the bay, and had managed even that night to communicate by signal fires to their companions on other sh.o.r.es and on islands, that white men were about; for as early as dawn canoes were seen off the coast--more and more came, till there was quite a swarm.

We were besieged. The wind might change if it liked, or remain where it was, it could make no difference to us now. To have ventured to run out against such odds would have been to throw our lives recklessly away.

But our position was good.

As we expected, the decayed mould of which, the bottom of the glen and hills was composed--centuries old, perhaps--kept on smouldering, and would do so for weeks. Then the bay was in our front and to our right the open sea.

No, we were safe for a time. But how long would our provisions last?

We made a careful survey, and found that with great economy we had enough for a week or even longer.

When we first appeared in the open, the yelling and menacing of the savages in their canoes was dreadful to hear and behold. For a time Ritchie thought they would cast prudence to the winds and attempt to force a landing.

Two boats did come near enough to fire arrows at us, but they dearly paid for their rashness, and three at least of the Indians would never fire an arrow more.

Long before sundown the enemy had drawn off, and there was not a canoe to be seen anywhere.

”Now would be a chance,” said Jill, ”if the wind would only change.”

Ritchie looked at him and smiled.

”My dear lad,” he said, ”we wouldn't be two hundred yards beyond the bar before they would be on us. We wouldn't be able to get back, and we'd never get far on in this world. No, that's only a trick, and a very transparent one; just the same as p.u.s.s.y plays with a mouse. But I'm too old for 'em. Drat 'em! Oh, I do love 'em, don't I just?”

He did not look as if he did.

Day after day--two, three, five, went hopelessly by. The weather kept fine, and the wind was now favourable for a sortie if we were at length compelled to run the gauntlet.

We had hoisted a signal on the cliff top in the hopes that pa.s.sing s.h.i.+ps might see it and perhaps send to our a.s.sistance. But the s.h.i.+ps we saw were a long way off, and noticed not our signal, for we were some distance out of the usual track of vessels.

On the fifth day Jill and I went up stream some little distance through the burnt forest, and Ossian, the dog, found near the bank a guanaco half-roasted. This was indeed a blessing, and we dined more heartily that evening than we had done for a week. We tried fis.h.i.+ng, hoping thereby to add to our larder, but were only indifferently successful.