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diff --git a/33903-0.txt b/33903-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6721377 --- /dev/null +++ b/33903-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8075 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTO THE PRIMITIVE *** + + +[Illustration: "It Can't Be that You Want to Go Back to All Those +Society Shams, After You've Seen Real Life!"] + + + + +INTO THE PRIMITIVE + +By ROBERT AMES BENNET + +AUTHOR OF + +"For the White Christ," "Thyra," Etc. + +With Frontispiece in Colors + +By ALLEN T. TRUE + +A. L. BURT COMPANY + +Publishers--New York + + + + +Copyright + +A. C. McClurg & Co. + +1908 + +Published April 11, 1908 + +Second Edition, May 9, 1908 + +Third Edition, Aug. 1, 1908 + + + + + _To the man and to the beast;_ + _To the girl, the snake, the blossom;_ + _To fever and fire and fear;_ + _To hurricane blast and storm within;_ + _To bloody fang and venomed tooth;_ + _To love, to hate, to pain, to joy,--_ + _For of such is Life,_ + _In the Primitive--and out._ + + + + +By Mr. Bennet + +FOR THE WHITE CHRIST. A Story of the Days of Charlemagne. + +Illustrations in full color by the Kinneys. Twentieth thousand. $1.50. + +A. C. McClurg & Co., Publishers + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. WAVE-TOSSED AND CASTAWAY 11 + II. WORSE THAN WILDERNESS 18 + III. THE WORTH OF FIRE 29 + IV. A JOURNEY IN DESOLATION 40 + V. THE RE-ASCENT OF MAN 56 + VI. MAN AND GENTLEMAN 67 + VII. AROUND THE HEADLAND 76 + VIII. THE CLUB AGE 87 + IX. THE LEOPARDS' DEN 105 + X. PROBLEMS IN WOODCRAFT 123 + XI. A DESPOILED WARDROBE 139 + XII. SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST 147 + XIII. THE MARK OF THE BEAST 159 + XIV. FEVER AND FIRE AND FEAR 174 + XV. WITH BOW AND CLUB 191 + XVI. THE SAVAGE MANIFEST 201 + XVII. THE SERPENT STRIKES 212 + XVIII. THE EAVESDROPPER CAUGHT 226 + XIX. AN OMINOUS LULL 235 + XX. THE HURRICANE BLAST 251 + XXI. WRECKAGE AND SALVAGE 263 + XXII. UNDERSTANDING AND MISUNDERSTANDING 272 + XXIII. THE END OF THE WORLD 284 + XXIV. A LION LEADS THEM 299 + XXV. IN DOUBLE SALVATION 314 + + + + +INTO THE PRIMITIVE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +WAVE-TOSSED AND CASTAWAY + + +The beginning was at Cape Town, when Blake and Winthrope boarded the +steamer as fellow passengers with Lady Bayrose and her party. + +This was a week after Winthrope had arrived on the tramp steamer from +India, and her Ladyship had explained to Miss Leslie that it was as +well for her not to be too hasty in accepting his attentions. To be +sure, he was an Englishman, his dress and manners were irreproachable, +and he was in the prime of ripened youth. Yet Lady Bayrose was too +conscientious a chaperon to be fully satisfied with her countryman's +bare assertion that he was engaged on a diplomatic mission requiring +reticence regarding his identity. She did not see why this should +prevent him from confiding in _her_. + +Notwithstanding this, Winthrope came aboard ship virtually as a member of +her Ladyship's party. He was so quick, so thoughtful of her comfort, +and paid so much more attention to her than to Miss Leslie, that her +Ladyship had decided to tolerate him, even before Blake became a factor +in the situation. + +From the moment he crossed the gangway the American engineer entered +upon a daily routine of drinking and gambling, varied only by attempts +to strike up an off-hand acquaintance with Miss Leslie. This was +Winthrope's opportunity, and his clever frustration of what Lady +Bayrose termed "that low bounder's impudence" served to install +him in the good graces of her Ladyship as well as in the favor of +the American heiress. + +Such, at least, was what Winthrope intimated to the persistent engineer +with a superciliousness of tone and manner that would have stung even a +British lackey to resentment. To Blake it was supremely galling. He +could not rejoin in kind, and the slightest attempt at physical +retort would have meant irons and confinement. It was a British +ship. Behind Winthrope was Lady Bayrose; behind her Ladyship, as a +matter of course, was all the despotic authority of the captain. In +the circumstances, it was not surprising that the American drank +heavier after each successive goading. + +Meantime the ship, having touched at Port Natal, steamed on up the East +Coast, into the Mozambique Channel. + +On the day of the cyclone, Blake had withdrawn into his stateroom with +a number of bottles, and throughout that fearful afternoon was blissfully +unconscious of the danger. Even when the steamer went on the reef, he +was only partially roused by the shock. + +He took a long pull from a quart flask of whiskey, placed the flask +with great care in his hip pocket, and lurched out through the open +doorway. There he reeled headlong against the mate, who had rushed below +with three of the crew to bring up Miss Leslie. The mate cursed him +virulently, and in the same breath ordered two of the men to fetch him +up on deck. + +The sea was breaking over the steamer in torrents; but between waves +Blake was dragged across to the side and flung over into the bottom of +the one remaining boat. He served as a cushion to break the fall of Miss +Leslie, who was tossed in after him. At the same time, Winthrope, frantic +with fear, scrambled into the bows and cut loose. One of the sailors +leaped, but fell short and went down within arm's length of Miss Leslie. + +She and Winthrope saw the steamer slip from the reef and sink back into +deep water, carrying down in the vortex the mate and the few remaining +sailors. After that all was chaos to them. They were driven ashore before +the terrific gusts of the cyclone, blinded by the stinging spoondrift +to all else but the hell of breakers and coral reefs in whose midst +they swirled so dizzily. And through it all Blake lay huddled on the +bottom boards, gurgling blithely of spicy zephyrs and swaying hammocks. + +There came the seemingly final moment when the boat went spinning stern +over prow. . . . . + +Half sobered, Blake opened his eyes and stared solemnly about him. He +was given little time to take his bearings. A smother of broken surf +came seething up from one of the great breakers, to roll him over and +scrape him a little farther up the muddy shore. There the flood deposited +him for a moment, until it could gather force to sweep back and drag +him down again toward the roaring sea that had cast him up. + +Blake objected,--not to the danger of being drowned, but to interference +with his repose. He had reached the obstinate stage. He grunted a +protest. . . . . Again the flood seethed up the shore, and rolled him +away from the danger. This was too much! He set his jaw, turned over, +and staggered to his feet. Instantly one of the terrific wind-blasts +struck his broad back and sent him spinning for yards. He brought up +in a shallow pool, beside a hummock. + +Under the lee of the knoll lay Winthrope and Miss Leslie. Though +conscious, both were draggled and bruised and beaten to exhaustion. +They were together because they had come ashore together. When the boat +capsized, Miss Leslie had been flung against the Englishman, and they +had held fast to each other with the desperate clutch of drowning +persons. Neither of them ever recalled how they gained the shelter of +the hummock. + +Blake, sitting waist-deep in the pool, blinked at them benignly with +his pale blue eyes, and produced the quart flask, still a third full of +whiskey. + +"I shay, fren's," he observed, "ha' one on me. Won' cos' you +shent--notta re' shent!" + +"You fuddled lout!" shouted Winthrope. "Come out of that pool." + +"Wassama'er pool! Pool's allri'!" + +The Englishman squinted through the driving scud at the intoxicated +man with an anxious frown. In all probability he felt no commiseration +for the American; but it was no light matter to be flung up barehanded +on the most unhealthful and savage stretch of the Mozambique coast, and +Blake might be able to help them out of their predicament. To leave +him in the pool was therefore not to be thought of. So soon as he had +drained his bottle, he would lie down, and that would be the end of +him. As any attempt to move him forcibly was out of the question, the +situation demanded that Winthrope justify his intimations of diplomatic +training. After considering the problem for several minutes, he met +it in a way that proved he was at least not lacking in shrewdness and +tact. + +"See here, Blake," he called, in another lull between the shrieking +gusts, "the lady is fatigued. You're too much of a gentleman to ask +her to come over there." + +It required some moments for this to penetrate Blake's fuddled brain. +After a futile attempt to gain his feet, he crawled out of the pool on +all fours, and, with tears in his eyes, pressed his flask upon Miss +Leslie. She shrank away from him, shuddering, and drew herself up in +a huddle of flaccid limbs and limp garments. Winthrope, however, not +only accepted the flask, but came near to draining it. + +Blake squinted at the diminished contents, hesitated, and cast a glance +of maudlin gallantry at Miss Leslie. She lay coiled, closer than before, +in a draggled heap. Her posture suggested sleep. Blake stared at her, +the flask extended waveringly before him. Then he brought it to his lips, +and drained out the last drop. + +"Time turn in," he mumbled, and sprawled full length in the brackish +ooze. Immediately he fell into a drunken stupor. + +Winthrope, invigorated by the liquor, rose to his knees, and peered +around. It was impossible to face the scud and spoondrift from the +furious sea; but to leeward he caught a glimpse of a marsh flooded with +salt water, its reedy vegetation beaten flat by the storm. He himself was +beaten down by a terrific gust. Panting and trembling, he waited for +the wind to lull, in hope that he might obtain a clearer view of his +surroundings. Before he again dared rise to his feet, darkness swept +down with tropical suddenness and blurred out everything. + +The effect of the whiskey soon passed, and Winthrope huddled between his +companions, drenched and exhausted. Though he could hear Miss Leslie +moaning, he was too miserable himself to inquire whether he could do +anything for her. + +Presently he became aware that the wind was falling. The centre of the +cyclone had passed before the ship struck, and they were now in the +outermost circle of the vast whirlwind. With the consciousness of this +change for the better, Winthrope's fear-racked nerves relaxed, and he +fell into a heavy sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +WORSE THAN WILDERNESS + + +A wail from Miss Leslie roused the Englishman out of a dream in which he +had been swimming for life across a sea of boiling oil. He sat up and +gazed about him, half dazed. The cyclone had been followed by a dead +calm, and the sun, already well above the horizon, was blazing upon them +over the glassy surfaces of the dying swells with fierce heat. + +Winthrope felt about for his hat. It had been blown off when, at the +striking of the steamer, he had rushed up on deck. As he remembered, +he straightened, and looked at his companions. Blake lay snoring where +he had first outstretched himself, sleeping the sleep of the just--and +of the drunkard. The girl, however, was already awake. She sat with her +hands clasped in her lap, while the tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. + +"My--ah--dear Miss Genevieve, what is the matter?" exclaimed Winthrope. + +"Matter? Do you ask, when we are here on this wretched coast, and may +not get away for weeks? Oh, I did so count on the London season this +year! Lady Bayrose promised that I should be among those presented." + +"Well, I--ah--fancy, Lady Bayrose will do no more presenting--unless it +may be to the heavenly choir, you know." + +"Why, what do you mean, Mr. Winthrope? You told me that she and the +maids had been put in the largest boat--" + +"My dear Miss Genevieve, you must remember that I am a diplomat. It was +all quite sufficiently harrowing, I assure you. They were, indeed, put +into the largest boat--Beastly muddle!--While they waited for the mate to +fetch you, the boat was crushed alongside, and all in it drowned." + +"Drowned!--drowned! Oh, dear Lady Bayrose! And she'd travelled so +much--oh, oh, it is horrible! Why did she persuade me to visit the Cape? +It was only to be with her--And then for us to start off for India, when +we might have sailed straight to England! Oh, it is horrible! horrible! +And my maid, and all--It cannot be possible!" + +"Pray, do not excite yourself, my dear Miss Genevieve. Their troubles +are all over. Er--Gawd has taken them to Him, you know." + +"But the pity of it! To be drowned--so far from home!" + +"Ah, if that's all you're worrying about!--I must say I'd like to +know how we'll get a snack for breakfast. I'm hungry as a--er--groom." + +"Eating! How can you think of eating, Mr. Winthrope--and all the others +drowned? This sun is becoming dreadfully hot. It is unbearable! Can you +not put up some kind of an awning?" + +"Well, now, I must say, I was never much of a hand at such things, and +really I can't imagine what one could rig up. There might have been a +bit of sail in the boat, but one can't see a sign of it. I fancy it was +smashed." + +Miss Leslie ventured a glance at Blake. Though still lying as he had +sprawled in his drunkenness, there was a comforting suggestion of power +in his broad shoulders and square jaw. + +"Is he still--in that condition?" + +"Must have slept it off by this time, and there's no more in the +flask," answered Winthrope. Reaching over with his foot, he pushed +against Blake's back. + +"Huh! All right," grunted the sleeper, and sat up, as had Winthrope, +half dazed. Then he stared around him, and rose to his feet. "Well, what +in hell! Say, this is damn cheerful!" + +"I fancy we are in a nasty fix. But I say, my man, there is a woman +present, and your language, you know--" + +Blake turned and fixed the Englishman with a cold stare. + +"Look here, you bloomin' lud," he said, "there's just one thing +you're going to understand, right here and now. I'm not your man, +and we're not going to have any of that kind of blatter. Any fool +can see we're in a tight hole, and we're like to keep company for a +while--probably long as we last." + +"What--ah--may I ask, do you mean by that?" + +Blake laughed harshly, and pointed from the reef-strewn sea to the vast +stretches of desolate marsh. Far inland, across miles of brackish lagoons +and reedy mud-flats, could be seen groups of scrubby, half-leafless +trees; ten or twelve miles to the southward a rocky headland jutted out +into the water; otherwise there was nothing in sight but sea and swamp. +If it could not properly be termed a sea-view, it was at least a very +wet landscape. + +"Fine prospect," remarked Blake, dryly. "We'll be in luck if the +fever don't get the last of us inside a month; and as for you two, +you'd have as much show of lasting a month as a toad with a rattlesnake, +if it wasn't for Tom Blake,--that's my name--Tom Blake,--and as +long as this shindy lasts, you're welcome to call me Tom or Blake, +whichever suits. But understand, we're not going to have any more +of your bloody, bloomin' English condescension. Aboard ship you had +the drop on me, and could pile on dog till the cows came home. Here +I'm Blake, and you're Winthrope." + +"Believe me, Mr. Blake, I quite appreciate the--ah--situation. And now, +I fancy that, instead of wasting time--" + +"It's about time you introduced me to the lady," interrupted Blake, +and he stared at them half defiantly, yet with a twinkle in his eyes. + +Miss Leslie flushed. Winthrope swore softly, and bit his lip. Aboard +ship, backed by Lady Bayrose and the captain, he had goaded the American +at pleasure. Now, however, the situation was reversed. Both title and +authority had been swept away by the storm, and he was left to shift +for himself against the man who had every reason to hate him for his +overbearing insolence. Worse still, both he and Miss Leslie were now +dependent upon the American, in all probability for life itself. It was a +bitter pill and hard to swallow. + +Blake was not slow to observe the Englishman's hesitancy. He grinned. + +"Every dog has his day, and I guess this is mine," he said. "Take +your time, if it comes hard. I can imagine it's a pretty stiff dose +for your ludship. But why in--why in frozen hades an American lady should +object to an introduction to a countryman who's going to do his level +best to save her pretty little self from the hyenas--well, it beats me." + +Winthrope flushed redder than the girl. + +"Miss Leslie, Mr. Blake," he murmured, hoping to put an end to the +situation. + +But yet Blake persisted. He bowed, openly exultant. + +"You see, Miss," he said, "I know the correct thing quite as much as +your swells. I knew all along you were Jenny Leslie. I ran a survey for +your dear papa when he was manipulating the Q. T. Railroad, and he did +me out of my pay." + +"Oh, but Mr. Blake, I am sure it must be a mistake; I am sure that if +it is explained to papa--" + +"Yes; we'll cable papa to-night. Meantime, we've something else to +do. Suppose you two get a hustle on yourselves, and scrape up something +to eat. I'm going out to see what's left of that blamed old tub." + +"Surely you'll not venture to swim out so far!" protested Winthrope. +"I saw the steamer sink as we cast off." + +"Looks like a mast sticking up out there. Maybe some of the rigging is +loose." + +"But the sharks! These waters swarm with the vile creatures. You must +not risk your life!" + +"'Cause why? If I do, the babes in the woods will be left without even +the robins to cover them, poor things! But cheer up!--maybe the mud-hens +will do it with lovely water-lilies." + +"Please, Mr. Blake, do not be so cruel!" sobbed Miss Leslie, her tears +starting afresh. "The sun makes my head ache dreadfully, and I have no +hat or shade, and I'm becoming so thirsty!" + +"And you think you've only to wait, and half a dozen stewards will +come running with parasols and ice water. Neither you nor Winthrope seem +to 've got your eyes open. Just suppose you get busy and do something. +Winthrope, chase yourself over the mud, and get together a mess of fish +that are not too dead. Must be dozens, after the blow. As for you, Miss +Jenny, I guess you can pick up some reeds, and rig a headgear out of this +handkerchief-- Wait a moment. Put on my coat, if you don't want to be +broiled alive through the holes of that peek-a-boo." + +"But I say, Blake--" began Winthrope. + +"Don't say--do!" rejoined Blake; and he started down the muddy shore. + +Though the tide was at flood, there was now no cyclone to drive the +sea above the beach, and Blake walked a quarter of a mile before he +reached the water's edge. There was little surf, and he paused only a +few moments to peer out across the low swells before he commenced to +strip. + +Winthrope and Miss Leslie had been watching his movements; now the girl +rose in a little flurry of haste, and set to gathering reeds. Winthrope +would have spoken, but, seeing her embarrassment, smiled to himself, and +began strolling about in search of fish. + +It was no difficult search. The marshy ground was strewn with dead +sea-creatures, many of which were already shrivelling and drying in +the sun. Some of the fish had a familiar look, and Winthrope turned them +over with the tip of his shoe. He even went so far as to stoop to pick +up a large mullet; but shrank back, repulsed by its stiffness and the +unnatural shape into which the sun was warping it. + +He found himself near the beach, and stood for half an hour or more +watching the black dot far out in the water,--all that was to be seen +of Blake. The American, after wading off-shore another quarter of a +mile, had reached swimming depth, and was heading out among the reefs +with steady, vigorous strokes. Half a mile or so beyond him Winthrope +could now make out the goal for which he was aiming,--the one remaining +topmast of the steamer. + +"By Jove, these waters are full of sharks!" murmured Winthrope, staring +at the steadily receding dot until it disappeared behind the wall of surf +which spumed up over one of the outer reefs. + +A call from Miss Leslie interrupted his watch, and he hastened to +rejoin her. After several failures, she had contrived to knot Blake's +handkerchief to three or four reeds in the form of a little sunshade. Her +shoulders were protected by Blake's coat. It made a heavy wrap, but +it shut out the blistering sun-rays, which, as Blake had foreseen, had +quickly begun to burn the girl's delicate skin through her open-work +bodice. + +Thus protected, she was fairly safe from the sun. But the sun was by no +means the worst feature of the situation. While Winthrope was yet several +yards distant, the girl began to complain to him. "I'm so thirsty, +Mr. Winthrope! Where is there any water? Please get me a drink at once, +Mr. Winthrope!" + +"But, my dear Miss Leslie, there is no water. These pools are all +sea-water. I must say, I'm deuced dry myself. I can't see why that +cad should go off and leave us like this, when we need him most." + +"Indeed, it is a shame--Oh, I'm so thirsty! Do you think it would help +if we ate something?" + +"Make it all the worse. Besides, how could we cook anything? All these +reeds are green, or at least water-soaked." + +"But Mr, Blake said to gather some fish. Had you not best--" + +"He can pick up all he wants. I shall not touch the beastly things." + +"Then I suppose there is nothing to do but wait for him." + +"Yes, if the sharks do not get him." + +Miss Leslie uttered a little moan, and Winthrope, seeing that she was +on the verge of tears, hastened to reassure her. "Don't worry about +him, Miss Genevieve! He'll soon return, with nothing worse than a +blistered back. Fellows of that sort are born to hang, you know." + +"But if he should be--if anything should happen to him!" + +Winthrope shrugged his shoulders, and drew out his silver cigarette +case. It was more than half full, and he was highly gratified to find +that neither the cigarettes nor the vesta matches in the cover had been +reached by the wet. + +"By Jove, here's luck!" he exclaimed, and he bowed to Miss Leslie. +"Pardon me, but if you have no objections--" + +The girl nodded as a matter of form, and Winthrope hastened to light the +cigarette already in his fingers. The smoke by no means tended to lessen +the dryness of his mouth; yet it put him in a reflective mood, and in +thinking over what he had read of shipwrecked parties, he remembered that +a pebble held in the mouth is supposed to ease one's thirst. + +To be sure, there was not a sign of a pebble within miles of where they +sat; but after some reflection, it occurred to him that one of his steel +keys might do as well. At first Miss Leslie was reluctant to try the +experiment, and only the increasing dryness of her mouth forced her to +seek the promised relief. Though it failed to quench her thirst, she +was agreeably surprised to find that the little flat bar of metal eased +her craving to a marked degree. + +Winthrope now thought to rig a shade as Miss Leslie had done, out of +reeds and his handkerchief, for the sun was scorching his unprotected +head. Thus sheltered, the two crouched as comfortably as they could +upon the half-dried crest of the hummock, and waited impatiently for +the return of Blake. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE WORTH OF FIRE + + +Though the sea within the reefs was fast smoothing to a glassy plain +in the dead calm, they did not see Blake on his return until he struck +shallow water and stood up to wade ashore. The tide had begun to ebb +before he started landward, and though he was a powerful swimmer, the +long pull against the current had so tired him that when he took to +wading he moved at a tortoise-like gait. + +"The bloomin' loafer!" commented Winthrope. He glanced quickly about, +and at sight of Miss Leslie's arching brows, hastened to add: "Beg +pardon! He--ah--reminds me so much of a navvy, you know." + +Miss Leslie made no reply. + +At last Blake was out of the water and toiling up the muddy beach to +the spot where he had left his clothes. While dressing he seemed to +recover from his exertions in the water, for the moment he had finished, +he sprang to his feet and came forward at a brisk pace. + +As he approached, Winthrope waved his fifth cigarette at him with languid +enthusiasm, and called out as heartily as his dry lips would permit: +"I say, Blake, deuced glad the sharks didn't get you!" + +"Sharks?--bah! All you have to do is to splash a little, and they haul +off." + +"How about the steamer, Mr. Blake?" asked Miss Leslie, turning to face +him. + +"All under but the maintopmast--curse it!--wire rigging at that! +Couldn't even get a bolt." + +"A bolt?" + +"Not a bolt; and here we are as good as naked on this infernal-- Hey, +you! what you doing with that match? Light your cigarette--light it!-- +Damnation!" + +Heedless of Blake's warning cry, Winthrope had struck his last vesta, +and now, angry and bewildered, he stood staring while the little taper +burned itself out. With an oath, Blake sprang to catch it as it dropped +from between Winthrope's fingers. But he was too far away. It fell among +the damp rushes, spluttered, and flared out. + +For a moment Blake knelt, staring at the rushes as though stupefied; then +he sprang up before Winthrope, his bronzed face purple with anger. + +"Where's your matchbox? Got any more?" he demanded. + +"Last one, I fancy--yes; last one, and there are still two cigarettes. +But look here, Blake, I can't tolerate your talking so deucedly--" + +"You idiot! you--you-- Hell! and every one for cigarettes!" + +From a growl Blake's voice burst into a roar of fury, and he sprang upon +Winthrope like a wild beast. His hands closed upon the Englishman's +throat, and he began to shake him about, paying no heed to the blows +his victim showered upon his face and body, blows which soon began to +lessen in force. + +Terror-stricken, Miss Leslie put her hands over her eyes, and began +to scream--the piercing shriek that will unnerve the strongest man. +Blake paused as though transfixed, and as the half-suffocated Englishman +struggled in his grasp, he flung him on the ground, and turned to the +screaming girl. + +"Stop that squawking!" he said. The girl cowed down. "So; that's +better. Next time keep your mouth shut." + +"You--you brute!" + +"Good! You've got a little spunk, eh?" + +"You coward--to attack a man not half your strength!" + +"Steady, steady, young lady! I'm warm enough yet; I've still half a +mind to wring his fool neck." + +"But why should you be so angry! What has he done, that you--" + +"Why--why? Lord! what hasn't he done! This coast fairly swarms +with beasts. We've not the smell of a gun; and now this idiot--this +dough-head--has gone and thrown away our only chance--fire--and on his +measly cigarettes!" Blake choked with returning rage. + +Winthrope, still panting for breath, began to creep away, at the +same time unclasping a small penknife. He was white with fear; but +his gray eyes--which on shipboard Blake had never seen other than +offensively supercilious--now glinted in a manner that served to alter +the American's mood. + +"That'll do," he said. "Come here and show me that knife." + +"I'll show it you where it will do the most good," muttered Winthrope, +rising hastily to repel the expected attack. + +"So you've got a little sand, too," said Blake, almost good-naturedly. +"Say, that's not so bad. We'll call it quits on the matches. Though +how you could go and throw them away--" + +"Deuce take it, man! How should I know? I've never before been in a +wreck." + +"Neither have I--this kind. But I tell you, we've got to keep our think +tanks going. It's a guess if we see to-morrow, and that's no joke. Now +do you wonder I got hot?" + +"Indeed, no! I've been an ass, and here's my hand to it--if you really +mean it's quits." + +"It's quits all right, long as you don't run out of sand," responded +Blake, and he gripped the other's soft hand until the Englishman winced. +"So; that's settled. I've got a hot temper, but I don't hold grudges. +Now, where're your fish?" + +"I--well, they were all spoiled." + +"Spoiled?" + +"The sun had shrivelled them." + +"And you call that spoiled! We're like to eat them rotten before we're +through with this picnic. How about the pools?" + +"Pools? Do you know, Blake, I never thought of the pools. I stopped to +watch you, and then we were so anxious about you--" + +Blake grunted, and turned on his heel to wade into the half-drained pool +in whose midst he had been deposited by the hurricane. + +Two or three small fish lay faintly wriggling on the surface. As Blake +splashed through the water to seize them, his foot struck against a +living body which floundered violently and flashed a brilliant forked +tail above the muddy water. Blake sprang over the fish, which was +entangled in the reeds, and with a kick, flung it clear out upon the +ground. + +"A coryphene!" cried Winthrope, and he ran forward to stare at the +gorgeously colored prize. + +"Coryphene?" repeated Blake, following his example. "Good to eat?" + +"Fine as salmon. This is only a small one, but--" + +"Fifteen pounds, if an ounce!" cried Blake, and he thrust his hand in +his pocket. There was a moment's silence, and Winthrope, glancing up, +saw the other staring in blank dismay. + +"What's up!" he asked. + +"Lost my knife." + +"When?--in the pool? If we felt about--" + +"No; aboard ship, or in the surf--" + +"Here is my knife." + +"Yes; almost big enough to whittle a match! Mine would have done us some +good." + +"It is the best steel." + +"All right; let's see you cut up the fish." + +"But you know, Blake, I shouldn't know how to go about it. I never did +such a thing." + +"And you, Miss Jenny? Girls are supposed to know about cooking." + +"I never cooked anything in all my life, Mr. Blake, and it's +alive,--and--and I am very thirsty, Mr. Blake!" + +"Lord!" commented Blake. "Give me that knife." + +Though the blade was so small, the American's hand was strong. After +some little haggling, the coryphene was killed and dressed. Blake washed +both it and his hands in the pool, and began to cut slices of flesh from +the fish's tail. + +"We have no fire," Winthrope reminded him, flushing at the word. + +"That's true," assented Blake, in a cheerful tone, and he offered +Winthrope two of the pieces of raw flesh. "Here's your breakfast. The +trimmed piece is for Miss Leslie." + +"But it's raw! Really, I could not think of eating raw fish. Could you, +Miss Leslie?" + +Miss Leslie shuddered. "Oh, no!--and I'm so thirsty I could not eat +anything." + +"You bet you can!" replied Blake. "Both of you take that fish, and go +to chewing. It's the stuff to ease your thirst while we look for water. +Good Lord!--in a week you'll be glad to eat raw snake. Finnicky over +clean fish, when you swallow canvas-back all but raw, and beef running +blood, and raw oysters with their stomachs full of disintegrated animal +matter, to put it politely! You couldn't tell rattlesnake broth from +chicken, and dog makes first-rate veal--when you've got to eat it. I've +had it straight from them that know, that over in France they eat snails +and fish-worms. It's all a matter of custom or the style." + +"To be sure, the Japanese eat raw fish," admitted Winthrope. + +"Yes; and you'd swallow your share of it if you had an invite to a +swell dinner in Tokio. Go on now, both of you. It's no joke, I tell +you. You've got to eat, if you expect to get to water before night. +Understand? See that headland south? Well, it's a hundred to one +we'll not find water short of there, and if we make it by night, we'll +be doing better than I figure from the look of these bogs. Now go to +chewing. That's it! That's fine, Miss Jenny!" + +Miss Leslie had forced herself to take a nibble of the raw fish. The +flavor proved less repulsive than she had expected, and its moisture was +so grateful to her parched mouth that she began to eat with eagerness. +Not to be outdone, Winthrope promptly followed her lead. Blake had +already cut himself a second slice. After he had cut more for his +companions, he began to look them over with a closeness that proved +embarrassing to Miss Leslie. + +"Here's more of the good stuff," he said. "While you're chewing +it, we'll sort of take stock. Everybody shell out everything. Here's +my outfit--three shillings, half a dozen poker chips, and not another +blessed-- Say, what's become of that whiskey flask? Have you seen my +flask?" + +"Here it is, right beside me, Mr. Blake," answered Miss Leslie. "But +it is empty." + +"Might be worse! What you got?--hair-pins, watch? No pocket, I suppose?" + +"None; and no watch. Even most of my pins are gone," replied the girl, +and she raised her hand to her loosely coiled hair. + +"Well, hold on to what you've got left. They may come in for +fish-hooks. Let's see your shoes." + +Miss Leslie slowly thrust a slender little foot just beyond the hem of +her draggled white skirt. + +"Good Lord!" groaned Blake, "slippers, and high heels at that! How +do you expect to walk in those things?" + +"I can at least try," replied the girl, with spirit. + +"Hobble! Pass 'em over here, Winnie, my boy." + +The slippers were handed over. Blake took one after the other, and +wrenched off the heel close to its base. + +"Now you've at least got a pair of slippers," he said, tossing them +back to their owner. "Tie them on tight with a couple of your ribbons, +if you don't want to lose them in the mud. Now, Winthrope, what you got +beside the knife?" + +Winthrope held out a bunch of long flat keys and his cigarette case. +He opened the latter, and was about to throw away the two remaining +cigarettes when Blake grasped his wrist. + +"Hold on! even they may come in for something. We'll at least keep them +until we need the case." + +"And the keys!" + +"Make arrow-heads, if we can get fire." + +"I've heard of savages making fire by rubbing wood." + +"Yes; and we're a long way from being savages,--at present. All the +show we have is to find some kind of quartz or flint, and the sooner we +start to look the better. Got your slippers tied, Miss Jenny?" + +"Yes; I think they'll do." + +"Think! It's knowing's the thing. Here, let me look." + +The girl shrank back; but Blake stooped and examined first one slipper +and then the other. The ribbons about both were tied in dainty bows. +Blake jerked them loose and twisted them firmly over and under the +slippers and about the girl's slender ankles before knotting the ends. + +"There; that's more like. You're not going to a dance," he growled. + +He thrust the empty whiskey flask into his hip pocket, and went back to +pass a sling of reeds through the gills of the coryphene. + +"All ready now," he called. "Let's get a move on. Keep my coat closer +about your shoulders, Miss Jenny, and keep your shade up, if you don't +want a sunstroke." + +"Thank you, Blake, I'll see to that," said Winthrope. "I'm going to +help Miss Leslie along. I've fastened our two shades together, so that +they will answer for both of us." + +"How about yourself, Mr. Blake?" inquired the girl. "Do you not find +the sun fearfully hot?" + +"Sure; but I wet my head in the sea, and here's another souse." + +As he rose with dripping head from beside the pool, he slung the +coryphene on his back, and started off without further words. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A JOURNEY IN DESOLATION + + +Morning was well advanced, and the sun beat down upon the three with +almost overpowering fierceness. The heat would have rendered their thirst +unendurable had not Blake hacked off for them bit after bit of the moist +coryphene flesh. + +In a temperate climate, ten miles over firm ground is a pleasant walk +for one accustomed to the exercise. Quite a different matter is ten +miles across mud-flats, covered with a tangle of reeds and rushes, +and frequently dipping into salt marsh and ooze. Before they had gone +a mile Miss Leslie would have lost her slippers had it not been for +Blake's forethought in tying them so securely. Within a little more +than three miles the girl's strength began to fail. + +"Oh, Blake," called Winthrope, for the American was some yards in +the lead, "pull up a bit on that knoll. We'll have to rest a while, I +fancy. Miss Leslie is about pegged." + +"What's that?" demanded Blake. "We're not half-way yet!" + +Winthrope did not reply. It was all he could do to drag the girl up on +the hummock. She sank, half-fainting, upon the dry reeds, and he sat down +beside her to protect her with the shade. Blake stared at the miles of +swampy flats which yet lay between them and the out-jutting headland of +gray rock. The base of the cliff was screened by a belt of trees; but +the nearest clump of green did not look more than a mile nearer than +the headland. + +"Hell!" muttered Blake, despondently. "Not even a short four miles. +Mush and sassiety girls!" + +Though he spoke to himself, the others heard him. Miss Leslie flushed, +and would have risen had not Winthrope put his hand on her arm. + +"Could you not go on, and bring back a flask of water for Miss Leslie?" +he asked. "By that time she will be rested." + +"No; I don't fetch back any flasks of water. She's going when I go, +or you can come on to suit yourselves." + +"Mr. Blake, you--you won't go, and leave me here! If you have a +sister--if your mother--" + +"She died of drink, and both my sisters did worse." + +"My God, man! do you mean to say you'll abandon a helpless young girl?" + +"Not a bit more helpless than were my sisters when you rich folks' +guardians of law and order jugged me for the winter, 'cause I didn't +have a job, and turned both girls into the street--onto the street, if +you know what that means--one only sixteen and the other seventeen. Talk +about helpless young girls-- Damnation!" + +Miss Leslie cringed back as though she had been struck. Blake, however, +seemed to have vented his anger in the curse, for when he again spoke, +there was nothing more than impatience in his tone. "Come on, now; get +aboard. Winthrope couldn't lug you a half-mile, and long's it's the +only way, don't be all day about it. Here, Winthrope, look to the fish." + +"But, my dear fellow, I don't quite take your idea, nor does Miss +Leslie, I fancy," ventured Winthrope. + +"Well, we've got to get to water, or die; and as the lady can't walk, +she's going on my back. It's a case of have-to." + +"No! I am not--I am not! I'd sooner die!" + +"I'm afraid you'll find that easy enough, later on, Miss Jenny. Stand +by, Winthrope, to help her up. Do you hear? Take the knife and fish, and +lend a hand." + +There was a note in Blake's voice that neither Winthrope nor Miss +Leslie dared disregard. Though scarlet with mortification, she permitted +herself to be taken pick-a-back upon Blake's broad shoulders, and meekly +obeyed his command to clasp her hands about his throat. Yet even at +that moment, such are the inconsistencies of human nature, she could +not but admire the ease with which he rose under her weight. + +Now that he no longer had the slow pace of the girl to consider, he +advanced at his natural gait, the quick, tireless stride of an American +railroad-surveyor. His feet, trained to swamp travel in Louisiana and +Panama, seemed to find the firmest ground as by instinct, and whether +on the half-dried mud of the hummocks or in the ankle-deep water of the +bogs, they felt their way without slip or stumble. + +Winthrope, though burdened only with the half-eaten coryphene, toiled +along behind, greatly troubled by the mud and the tangled reeds, and now +and then flung down by some unlucky misstep. His modish suit, already +much damaged by the salt water, was soon smeared afresh with a coating +of greenish slime. His one consolation was that Blake, after jeering +at his first tumble, paid no more attention to him. On the other hand, +he was cut by the seeming indifference of Miss Leslie. Intent on his +own misery, he failed to consider that the girl might be suffering far +greater discomfort and humiliation. + +More than three miles had been covered before Blake stopped on a hummock. +Releasing Miss Leslie, he stretched out on the dry crest of the knoll, +and called for a slice of the fish. At his urging, the others took a +few mouthfuls, although their throats were now so parched that even +the moist flesh afforded scant relief. Fortunately for them all, Blake +had been thoroughly trained to endure thirst. He rested less than ten +minutes; then, taking Miss Leslie up again like a rag doll, he swung away +at a good pace. + +The trees were less than half a mile distant when he halted for the +second time. He would have gone to them without a pause though his +muscles were quivering with exhaustion, had not Miss Leslie chanced to +look around and discover that Winthrope was no longer following them. +For the last mile he had been lagging farther and farther behind, and +now he had suddenly disappeared. At the girl's dismayed exclamation, +Blake released his hold, and she found herself standing in a foot or +more of mud and water. The sweat was streaming down Blake's face. As he +turned around, he wiped it off with his shirtsleeves. + +"Do you--can it be, Mr. Blake, that he has had a sunstroke?" asked Miss +Leslie. + +"Sunstroke? No; he's just laid down, that's all. I thought he had more +sand--confound him!" + +"But the sun is so dreadfully hot, and I have his shade." + +"And he's been tumbling into every other pool. No; it's not the sun. +I've half a mind to let him lie--the paper-legged swell! It would no +more than square our aboard-ship accounts." + +"Surely, you would not do that, Mr. Blake! It may be that he has hurt +himself in falling." + +"In this mud?--bah! But I guess I'm in for the pack-mule stunt all +around. Now, now; don't yowl, Miss Jenny. I'm going. But you can't +expect me to love the snob." + +As he splashed away on the return trail, Miss Leslie dabbed at her eyes +to check the starting tears. + +"Oh, dear--Oh, dear!" she moaned; "what have I done, to be so treated? +Such a brute, Oh, dear!--and I am so thirsty!" + +In her despair she would have sunk down where she stood had not the +sliminess of the water repelled her. She gazed longingly at the trees, +in the fore of which stood a grove of stately palms. The half-mile seemed +an insuperable distance, but the ride on Blake's back had rested her, +and thirst goaded her forward. + +Stumbling and slipping, she waded on across the inundated ground, and +came out upon a half-baked mud-flat, where the walking was much easier. +But the sun was now almost directly overhead, and between her thirst and +the heat, she soon found herself faltering. She tottered on a few steps +farther, and then stopped, utterly spent As she sank upon the dried +rushes, she glanced around, and was vaguely conscious of a strange, +double-headed figure following her path across the marsh. All about +her became black. + +The next she knew, Blake was splashing her head and face with brackish +water out of the whiskey flask. She raised her hand to shield her face, +and sat up, sick and dizzy. + +"That's it!" said Blake. He spoke in a kindly tone, though his voice +was harsh and broken with thirst. "You're all right now. Pull yourself +together, and we'll get to the trees in a jiffy." + +"Mr. Winthrope--?" + +"I'm here, Miss Genevieve. It was only a wrenched ankle. If I had a +stick, Blake, I fancy I could make a go of it over this drier ground." + +"And lay yourself up for a month. Come, Miss Jenny, brace up for +another try. It's only a quarter-mile, and I've got to pack him." + +The girl was gasping with thirst; yet she made an effort, and assisted +by Blake managed to gain her feet. She was still dizzy; but as Blake +swung Winthrope upon his back, he told her to take hold of his arm. +Winthrope held the shade over her head. Thus assisted, and sheltered from +the direct beat of the sun-rays, she tottered along beside Blake, half +unconscious. + +Fortunately the remaining distance lay across a stretch of bare dry +ground, for even Blake had all but reached the limit of endurance. Step +by step he labored on, staggering under the weight of the Englishman, +and gasping with a thirst which his exertions rendered even greater +than that of his companions. But through the trees and brush which +stretched away inland in a wall of verdure he had caught glimpses of a +broad stream, and the hope of fresh water called out every ounce of his +reserve strength. + +At last the nearest palm was only a few paces distant. Blake clutched +Miss Leslie's arm, and dragged her forward with a rush, in a final +outburst of energy. A moment later all three lay gasping in the shade. +But the river was yet another hundred yards distant. Blake waited only +to regain his breath; then he staggered up and went on. The others, +unable to rise, gazed after him in silent misery. + +Soon Blake found himself rushing through the jungle along a broad trail +pitted with enormous footprints; but he was so near mad with thirst +that he paid no heed to the spoor other than to curse the holes for +the trouble they gave him. Suddenly the trail turned to the left and +sloped down a low bank into the river. Blind to all else, Blake ran +down the slope, and dropping upon his knees, plunged his head into the +water. + +At first his throat was so dry that he could no more than rinse his +mouth. With the first swallow, his swollen tongue mocked him with +the salt, bitter taste of sea-water. The tide was flowing! He rose, +sputtering and choking and gasping. He stared around. There was no +question that he was on the bank of a river and would be certain of +fresh water with the ebb tide. But could he endure the agony of his +thirst all those hours? + +He thought of his companions. + +"Good God!" he groaned, "they're goners anyway!" + +He stared dully up the river at the thousands of waterfowl which lined +its banks. Within close view were herons and black ibises, geese, +pelicans, flamingoes, and a dozen other species of birds of which he +did not know the names. But he sat as though in a stupor, and did not +move even when one of the driftwood logs on a mud-shoal a few yards +up-stream opened an enormous mouth and displayed two rows of hooked +fangs. It was otherwise when the noontime stillness was broken by a +violent splashing and loud snortings down-stream. He glanced about, +and saw six or eight monstrous heads drifting towards him with the tide. + +"What in-- Whee! a whole herd of hippos!" he muttered. "That's what +the holes mean." + +The foremost hippopotamus was headed directly for him. He glared at the +huge head with sullen resentment. For all his stupor, he perceived at +once that the beast intended to land; and he sat in the middle of its +accustomed path. His first impulse was to spring up and yell at the +creature. Then he remembered hearing that a white hunter had recently +been killed by these beasts on one of the South African lakes. Instead +of leaping up, he sank down almost flat, and crawled back around the +turn in the path. Once certain that he was hidden from the beasts, he +rose to his feet and hastened back through the jungle. + +He was almost in view of the spot where he had left Winthrope and Miss +Leslie, when he stopped and stood hesitating. + +"I can't do it," he muttered; "I can't tell her,--poor girl!" + +He turned and pushed into the thicket. Forcing a way through the tangle +of thorny shrubs and creepers, until several yards from the path, he +began to edge towards the face of the jungle, that he might peer out at +his companions, unseen by them. + +There was more of the thicket before him than he had thought, and he was +still fighting his way through it, when he was brought to a stand by a +peculiar cry that might have been the bleat of a young lamb: "Ba--ba!" + +"What's that!" he croaked. + +He stood listening, and in a moment he again heard the cry, this time +more distinctly: "Blak!--Blak!" + +There could be no mistake. It was Winthrope calling for him, and calling +with a clearness of voice that would have been physically impossible half +an hour since. Blake's sunken eyes lighted with hope. He burst through +the last screen of jungle, and stared towards the palm under which he +had left his companions. They were not there. + +Another call from Winthrope directed his gaze more seaward. The two were +seated beside a fallen palm, and Miss Leslie had a large round object +raised to her lips. Winthrope was waving to him. + +"Cocoanuts!" he yelled. "Come on!" + +Three of the palms had been overthrown by the hurricane, and when Blake +came up, he found the ground strewn with nuts. He seized the first he +came to; but Winthrope held out one already opened. He snatched it +from him, and placed the hole to his swollen lips. Never had champagne +tasted half so delicious as that cocoanut milk. Before he could drain +the last of it through the little opening, Winthrope had the husks torn +from the ends of two other nuts, and the convenient germinal spots +gouged open with his penknife. + +Blake emptied the third before he spoke. Even then his voice was hoarse +and strained. "How'd you strike 'em?" + +"I couldn't help it," explained Winthrope. "Hardly had you +disappeared when I noticed the tops of the fallen palms, and thought of +the nuts. There was one in the grass not twenty feet from where we lay." + +"Lucky for you--and for me, too, I guess," said Blake. "We were all +three down for the count. But this settles the first round in our favor. +How do you like the picnic, Miss Jenny?" + +"Miss Leslie, if you please," replied the girl, with hauteur. + +"Oh, say, Miss Jenny!" protested Blake, genially. "We live in the same +boarding-house now. Why not be folksy? You're free to call me Tom. Pass +me another nut, Winthrope. Thanks! By the way, what's your front name? +Saw it aboard ship--Cyril--" + +"Cecil," corrected Winthrope, in a low tone. + +"Cecil--Lord Cecil, eh?--or is it only The Honorable Cecil?" + +"My dear sir, I have intimated before that, for reasons of--er--State--" + +"Oh, yes; you're travelling incog., in the secret service. Sort of +detective--" + +"Detective!" echoed Winthrope, in a peculiar tone. + +Blake grinned. "Well, it is rawther a nawsty business for your honorable +ludship. But there's nothing like calling things by their right names." + +"Right names--er--I don't quite take you. I have told you distinctly, +my name is Cecil Winthrope!" + +"O-h-h! how lovely!--See-sill! See-seal!--Bet they called you Sissy +at school. English, chum of mine told me your schools are corkers for +nicknames. What'll we make it--Sis or Sissy?" + +"I prefer my patronymic, Mr. Blake," replied Winthrope. + +"All right, then; we'll make it Pat, if that's your choice. I say, +Pat, this juice is the stuff for wetness, but it makes a fellow remember +his grub. Where'd you leave that fish?" + +"Really, I can't just say, but it must have been where I wrenched my +ankle." + +"You cawn't just say! And what are we going to eat?" + +"Here are the cocoanuts." + +"Bright boy! go to the head of the class! Just take some more husk off +those empty ones." + +Winthrope caught up one of the nuts, and with the aid of his knife, +stripped it of its husk. At a gesture from Blake, he laid it on the +bare ground, and the American burst it open with a blow of his heel. +It was an immature nut, and the meat proved to be little thicker than +clotted cream. Blake divided it into three parts, handing Miss Leslie +the cleanest. + +Though his companions began with more restraint, they finished their +shares with equal gusto. Winthrope needed no further orders to return to +his husking. One after another, the nuts were cracked and divided among +the three, until even Blake could not swallow another mouthful of the +luscious cream. + +Toward the end Miss Leslie had become drowsy. At Winthrope's urging, +she now lay down for a nap, Blake's coat serving as a pillow. She fell +asleep while Winthrope was yet arranging it for her. Blake had turned +his back on her, and was staring moodily at the hippopotamus trail, when +Winthrope hobbled around and sat down on the palm trunk beside him. + +"I say, Blake," he suggested, "I feel deuced fagged myself. Why not +all take a nap?" + +"'And when they awoke, they were all dead men,'" remarked Blake. + +"By Jove, that sounds like a joke," protested the Englishman. "Don't +rag me now." + +"Joke!" repeated Blake. "Why, that's Scripture, Pat, Scripture! +Anyway, you'd think it no joke to wake up and find yourself going down +the throat of a hippo." + +"Hippo?" + +"Dozens of them over in the river. Shouldn't wonder if they've all +landed, and 're tracking me down by this time." + +"But hippopotami are not carnivorous--they're not at all dangerous, +unless one wounds them, out in the water." + +"That may be; but I'm not taking chances. They've got mouths like +sperm whales--I saw one take a yawn. Another thing, that bayou is chuck +full of alligators, and a fellow down on the Rand told me they're like +the Central American gavials for keenness to nip a swimmer." + +"They will not come out on this dry land." + +"Suppose they won't--there're no other animals in Africa but sheep, +eh?" + +"What can we do? The captain told me that there are both lions and +leopards on this coast." + +"Nice place for them, too, around these trees," added Blake. "Lucky +for us, they're night-birds mostly,--if that Rand fellow didn't lie. +He was a Boer, so I guess he ought to know." + +"To be sure. It's a nasty fix we're in for to-night. Could we not +build some kind of a barricade?" + +"With a penknife! Guess we'll roost in a tree." + +"But cannot leopards climb? It seems to me that I have heard--" + +"How about lions?" + +"They cannot; I'm sure of that." + +"Then we'll chance the leopards. Just stretch out here, and nurse that +ankle of yours. I don't want to be lugging you all year. I'm going to +hunt a likely tree." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE RE-ASCENT OF MAN + + +Afternoon was far advanced, and Winthrope was beginning to feel anxious, +when at last Blake pushed out from among the close thickets. As he +approached, he swung an unshapely club of green wood, pausing every few +paces to test its weight and balance on a bush or knob of dirt. + +"By Jove!" called Winthrope; "that's not half bad! You look as if +you could bowl over an ox." + +Blake showed that he was flattered. + +"Oh, I don't know," he responded; "the thing's blamed unhandy. Just +the same, I guess we'll be ready for callers to-night." + +"How's that?" + +"Show you later, Pat, me b'y. Now trot out some nuts. We'll feed +before we move camp." + +"Miss Leslie is still sleeping." + +"Time, then, to roust her out. Hey, Miss Jenny, turn out! Time to chew." + +Miss Leslie sat up and gazed around in bewilderment. + +"It's all right, Miss Genevieve," reassured Winthrope. "Blake has +found a safe place for the night, and he wishes us to eat before we leave +here." + +"Save lugging the grub," added Blake. "Get busy, Pat." + +As Winthrope caught up a nut, the girl began to arrange her disordered +hair and dress with the deft and graceful movements of a woman thoroughly +trained in the art of self-adornment. There was admiration in Blake's +deep eyes as he watched her dainty preening. She was not a beautiful +girl--at present she could hardly be termed pretty; yet even in her +draggled, muddy dress she retained all the subtle charms of culture +which appeal so strongly to a man. Blake was subdued. His feelings even +carried him so far as an attempt at formal politeness, when they had +finished their meal. + +"Now, Miss Leslie," he began, "it's little more than half an hour +to sundown; so, if you please, if you're quite ready, we'd best be +starting." + +"Is it far?" + +"Not so very. But we've got to chase through the jungle. Are you sure +you're quite ready?" + +"Quite, thank you. But how about Mr. Winthrope's ankle?" + +"He'll ride as far as the trees. I can't squeeze through with him, +though." + +"I shall walk all the way," put in Winthrope. + +"No, you won't. Climb aboard," replied Blake, and catching up his +club, he stooped for Winthrope to mount his back. As he rose with his +burden, Miss Leslie caught sight of his coat, which still lay in a roll +beside the palm trunk. + +"How about your coat, Mr. Blake?" she asked. "Should you not put it +on?" + +"No; I'm loaded now. Have to ask you to look after it. You may need +it before morning, anyway. If the dews here are like those in Central +America, they are d-darned liable to bring on malarial fever." + +Nothing more was said until they had crossed the open space between the +palms and the belt of jungle along the river. At other times Winthrope +and Miss Leslie might have been interested in the towering screw-palms, +festooned to the top with climbers, and in the huge ferns which they +could see beneath the mangroves, in the swampy ground on their left. +Now, however, they were far too concerned with the question of how +they should penetrate the dense tangle of thorny brush and creepers +which rose before them like a green wall. Even Blake hesitated as he +released Winthrope, and looked at Miss Leslie's costume. Her white +skirt was of stout duck; but the flimsy material of her waist was +ill-suited for rough usage. + +"Better put the coat on, unless you want to come out on the other side +in full evening dress," he said. "There's no use kicking; but I wish +you'd happened to have on some sort of a jacket when we got spilled." + +"Is there no path through the thicket?" inquired Winthrope. + +"Only the hippo trail, and it don't go our way. We've got to run our +own line. Here's a stick for your game ankle." + +Winthrope took the half-green branch which Blake broke from the nearest +tree, and turned to assist Miss Leslie with the coat. The garment was +of such coarse cloth that as Winthrope drew the collar close about her +throat Miss Leslie could not forego a little grimace of repugnance. The +crease between Blake's eyes deepened, and the girl hastened to utter +an explanatory exclamation: "Not so tight, Mr. Winthrope, please! It +scratches my neck." + +"You'd find those thorns a whole lot worse," muttered Blake. + +"To be sure; and Miss Leslie fully appreciates your kindness," +interposed Winthrope. + +"I do indeed, Mr. Blake! I'm sure I never could go through here without +your coat." + +"That's all right. Got the handkerchief?" + +"I put it in one of the pockets." + +"It'll do to tie up your hair." + +Miss Leslie took the suggestion, knotting the big square of linen over +her fluffy brown hair. + +Blake waited only for her to draw out the kerchief, before he began to +force a way through the jungle. Now and then he beat at the tangled +vegetation with his club. Though he held to the line by which he had +left the thicket, yet all his efforts failed to open an easy passage +for the others. Many of the thorny branches sprang back into place behind +him, and as Miss Leslie, who was the first to follow, sought to thrust +them aside, the thorns pierced her delicate skin, until her hands were +covered with blood. Nor did Winthrope, stumbling and hobbling behind her, +fare any better. Twice he tripped headlong into the brush, scratching +his arms and face. + +Blake took his own punishment as a matter of course, though his tougher +and thicker skin made his injuries less painful. He advanced steadily +along the line of bent and broken twigs that marked his outward passage, +until the thicket opened on a strip of grassy ground beneath a wild +fig-tree. + +"By Jove!" exclaimed Winthrope, "a banyan!" + +"Banyan? Well, if that's British for a daisy, you've hit it," +responded Blake. "Just take a squint up here. How's that for a roost?" + +Winthrope and Miss Leslie stared up dubiously at the edge of a bed of +reeds gathered in the hollow of one of the huge flattened branches at its +junction with the main trunk of the banyan, twenty feet above them. + +"Will not the mosquitoes pester us, here among the trees?" objected +Winthrope. + +"Storm must have blown 'em away. I haven't seen any yet." + +"There will be millions after sunset." + +"Maybe; but I bet they keep below our roost" + +"But how are we to get up so high?" inquired Miss Leslie. + +"I can swarm this drop root, and I've a creeper ready for you two," +explained Blake. + +Suiting action to words, he climbed up the small trunk of the air root, +and swung over into the hollow where he had piled the reeds. Across the +broad limb dangled a rope-like creeper, one end of which he had fastened +to a branch higher up. He flung down the free end to Winthrope. + +"Look lively, Pat," he called. "The sun's most gone, and the twilight +don't last all night in these parts. Get the line around Miss Leslie, +and do what you can on a boost." + +"I see; but, you know, the vine is too stiff to tie." + +Blake stifled an oath, and jerked the end of the creeper up into his +hand. When he threw it down again, it was looped around and fastened in +a bowline knot. + +"Now, Miss Leslie, get aboard, and we'll have you up in a jiffy," he +said. + +"Are you sure you can lift me?" asked the girl, as Winthrope slipped +the loop over her shoulders. + +Blake laughed down at them. "Well, I guess yes! Once hoisted a fellow +out of a fifty-foot prospect hole--big fat Dutchman at that. You don't +weigh over a hundred and twenty." + +He had stretched out across the broadest part of the branch. As Miss +Leslie seated herself in the loop, he reached down and began to haul up +on the creeper, hand over hand. Though frightened by the novel manner +of ascent, the girl clung tightly to the line above her head, and Blake +had no difficulty in raising her until she swung directly beneath him. +Here, however, he found himself in a quandary. The girl seemed as +helpless as a child, and he was lying flat. How could he lift her above +the level of the branch? + +"Take hold the other line," he said. The girl hesitated. "Do you hear? +Grab it quick, and pull up hard, if you don't want a tumble!" + +The girl seized the part of the creeper which was fastened above, and +drew herself up with convulsive energy. Instantly Blake rose to his +knees, and grasping the taut creeper with one hand, reached down with +the other, to swing the girl up beside him on the branch. + +"All right, Miss Jenny," he reassured her as he felt her tremble. +"Sorry to scare you, but I couldn't have made it without. Now, if +you'll just hold down my legs, we'll soon hoist his ludship." + +He had seated her in the broadest part of the shallow hollow, where the +branch joined the main trunk of the fig. Heaped with the reeds which +he had gathered during the afternoon, it made such a cozy shelter that +she at once forgot her dizziness and fright. Nestling among the reeds, +she leaned over and pressed down on his ankles with all her strength. + +The loose end of the creeper had fallen to the ground when Blake lifted +her upon the branch, and Winthrope was already slipping into the loop. +Blake ordered him to take it off, and send up the club. As the creeper +was again flung down, a black shadow swept over the jungle. + +"Hello! Sunset!" called Blake. "Look sharp, there!" + +"All ready," responded Winthrope. + +Blake drew in a full breath, and began to hoist. The position was an +awkward one, and Winthrope weighed thirty or forty pounds more than Miss +Leslie. But as the Englishman came within reach of the descending loop, +he grasped it and did what he could to ease Blake's efforts. A few +moments found him as high above the ground as Blake could raise him. +Without waiting for orders, he swung himself upon the upper part of +the creeper, and climbed the last few feet unaided. Blake grunted with +satisfaction as he pulled him in upon the branch. + +"You may do, after all," he said. "At any rate, we're all aboard for +the night; and none too soon. Hear that!" + +"What?" + +"Lion, I guess--Not that yelping. Listen!" + +The brief twilight was already fading into the darkness of a moonless +night, and as the three crouched together in their shallow nest, they +were soon made audibly aware of the savage nature of their surroundings. +With the gathering night the jungle wakened into full life. From all +sides came the harsh squawking of birds, the weird cries of monkeys and +other small creatures, the crash of heavy animals moving through the +jungle, and above all the yelp and howl and roar of beasts of prey. + +After some contention with Winthrope, Blake conceded that the roars +of his lion might be nothing worse than the snorting of the hippopotami +as they came out to browse for the night. In this, however, there was +small comfort, since Winthrope presently reasserted his belief in the +climbing ability of leopards, and expressed his opinion that, whether +or not there were lions in the neighborhood, certain of the barking +roars they could hear came from the throats of the spotted climbers. Even +Blake's hair bristled as his imagination pictured one of the great +cats creeping upon them in the darkness from the far end of their nest +limb, or leaping down out of the upper branches. + +The nerves of all three were at their highest tension when a dark form +swept past through the air within a yard of their faces. Miss Leslie +uttered a stifled scream, and Blake brandished his club. But Winthrope, +who had caught a glimpse of the creature's shape, broke into a nervous +laugh. + +"It's only a fruit bat," he explained. "They feed on the banyan figs, +you know." + +In the reaction from this false alarm, both men relaxed, and began +to yield to the effects of the tramp across the mud-flats. Arranging +the reeds as best they could, they stretched out on either side of +Miss Leslie, and fell asleep in the middle of an argument on how the +prospective leopard was most likely to attack. + +Miss Leslie remained awake for two or three hours longer. Naturally +she was more nervous than her companions, and she had been refreshed by +her afternoon's nap. Her nervousness was not entirely due to the wild +beasts. Though Blake had taken pains to secure himself and his companions +in loops of the creeper, fastened to the branch above, Winthrope moved +about so restlessly in his sleep that the girl feared he would roll from +the hollow. + +At last her limbs became so cramped that she was compelled to change +her position. She leaned back upon her elbow, determined to rise again +and maintain her watch the moment she was rested. But sleep was close +upon her. There was a lull in the louder noises of the jungle. Her eyes +closed, and her head sank lower. In a little time it was lying upon +Winthrope's shoulder, and she was fast asleep. + +As Blake had asserted, the mosquitoes had either been blown away by +the cyclone, or did not fly to such a height. None came to trouble the +exhausted sleepers. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +MAN AND GENTLEMAN + + +Night had almost passed, and all three, soothed by the refreshing +coolness which preceded the dawn, were sleeping their soundest, when +a sudden fierce roar followed instantly by a piercing squeal caused +even Blake to start up in panic. Miss Leslie, too terrified to scream, +clung to Winthrope, who crouched on his haunches, little less overcome. + +Blake was the first to recover and puzzle out the meaning of the crashing +in the jungle and the ferocious growls directly beneath them. + +"Lie still," he whispered. "We're all right. It's only a beast +that's killed something down below us." + +All sat listening, and as the noise of the animals in the thicket died +away, they could hear the beast beneath them tear at the body of its +victim. + +"The air feels like dawn," whispered Winthrope. "We'll soon be able +to see the brute." + +"And he us," rejoined Blake. + +In this both were mistaken. During the brief false dawn they were puzzled +by the odd appearance of the ground. The sudden flood of full daylight +found them staring down into a dense white fog. + +"So they have that here!" muttered Blake--"fever-fog!" + +"Beastly shame!" echoed Winthrope. "I'm sure the creature has gone +off." + +This assertion was met by an outburst of snarls and yells that made all +start back and crouch down again in their sheltering hollow. As before, +Blake was the first to recover. + +"Bet you're right," he said. "The big one has gone off, and a pack +of these African coyotes are having a scrap over the bones." + +"You mean jackals. It sounds like the nasty beasts." + +"If it wasn't for that fog, I'd go down and get our share of the +game." + +"Would it not be very dangerous, Mr. Blake?" asked Miss Leslie. "What +a fearful noise!" + +"I've chased coyotes off a calf with a rope; but that's not the +proposition. You don't find me fooling around in that sewer gas of a +fog. We'll roost right where we are till the sun does for it. We've +got enough malaria in us already." + +"Will it be long, Blake?" asked Winthrope. + +"Huh? Getting hungry this quick? Wait till you've tramped around a +week, with nothing to eat but your shoes." + +"Surely, Mr. Blake, it will not be so bad!" protested Miss Leslie. + +"Sorry, Miss Jenny; but cocoanut palms don't blow over every day, and +when those nuts are gone, what are we going to do for the next meal?" + +"Could we not make bows?" suggested Winthrope. "There seems to be no +end of game about." + +"Bows--and arrows without points! Neither of us could hit a barn door, +anyway." + +"We could practise." + +"Sure--six weeks' training on air pudding. I can do better with a +handful of stones." + +"Then we should go at once to the cliffs," said Miss Leslie. + +"Now you're talking--and it's Pike Peak or bust, for ours. Here's +one night to the good; but we won't last many more if we don't get +fire. It's flints we're after now." + +"Could we not make fire by rubbing sticks?" said Winthrope, recalling +his suggestion of the previous morning. "I've heard that natives have +no trouble--" + +"So've I, and what's more, I've seen 'em do it. Never could make +a go of it myself, though." + +"But if you remember how it is done, we have at least some chance--" + +"Give you ten to one odds! No; we'll scratch around for a flint good +and plenty before we waste time that way." + +"The mist is going," observed Miss Leslie. + +"That's no lie. Now for our coyotes. Where's my club?" + +"They've all left," said Winthrope, peering down. "I can see the +ground clearly, and there is not a sign of the beasts." + +"There are the bones--what's left of them," added Blake. "It's a +small deer, I suppose. Well, here goes." + +He threw down his club, and dropped the loose end of the creeper after +it. As the line straightened, he twisted the upper part around his leg, +and was about to slide to the ground, when he remembered Miss Leslie. + +"Think you can make it alone?" he asked. + +The girl held up her hands, sore and swollen from the lacerations of the +thorns. Blake looked at them, frowned, and turned to Winthrope. + +"Um! you got it, too, and in the face," he grunted. "How's your +ankle?" + +Winthrope wriggled his foot about, and felt the injured ankle. + +"I fancy it is much better," he answered. "There seems to be no +swelling, and there is no pain now." + +"That's lucky; though it will tune up later. Take a slide, now. We've +got to hustle our breakfast, and find a way to get over the river." + +"How wide is it?" inquired Winthrope, gazing at his swollen hands. + +"About three hundred yards at high tide. May be narrower at ebb." + +"Could you not build a raft?" suggested Miss Leslie. + +Blake smiled at her simplicity. "Why not a boat? We've got a penknife." + +"Well, then, I can swim." + +"Bully for you! Guess, though, we'll try something else. The river is +chuck full of alligators. What you waiting for, Pat? We haven't got all +day to fool around here." + +Winthrope twisted the creeper about his leg and slid to the ground, doing +all he could to favor his hands. He found that he could walk without +pain, and at once stepped over beside Blake's club, glancing nervously +around at the jungle. + +Blake jerked up the end of the creeper, and passed the loop about Miss +Leslie. Before she had time to become frightened, he swung her over and +lowered her to the ground lightly as a feather. He followed, hand under +hand, and stood for a moment beside her, staring at the dew-dripping +foliage of the jungle. Then the remains of the night's quarry caught +his eye, and he walked over to examine them. + +"Say, Pat," he called, "these don't look like deer bones. I'd +say--yes; there's the feet--it's a pig." + +"Any tusks?" demanded Winthrope. + +Miss Leslie looked away. A heap of bones, however cleanly gnawed, is +not a pleasant sight. The skull of the animal seemed to be missing; but +Blake stumbled upon it in a tuft of grass, and kicked it out upon the +open ground. Every shred of hide and gristle had been gnawed from it +by the jackals; yet if there had been any doubt as to the creature's +identity, there was evidence to spare in the savage tusks which projected +from the jaws. + +"Je-rusalem!" observed Blake; "this old boar must have been something +of a scrapper his own self." + +"In India they have been known to kill a tiger. Can you knock out the +tusks?" + +"What for?" + +"Well, you said we had nothing for arrow points--" + +"Good boy! We'll cinch them, and ask questions later." + +A few blows with the club loosened the tusks. Blake handed them over to +Winthrope, together with the whiskey flask, and led the way to the +half-broken path through the thicket. A free use of his club made the +path a little more worthy of the name, and as there was less need of +haste than on the previous evening, Winthrope and Miss Leslie came +through with only a few fresh scratches. Once on open ground again, +they soon gained the fallen palms. + +At a word from Blake, Miss Leslie hastened to fetch nuts for Winthrope +to husk and open. Blake, who had plucked three leaves from a fan palm +near the edge of the jungle, began to split long shreds from one of the +huge leaves of a cocoanut palm. This gave him a quantity of coarse, stiff +fibre, part of which he twisted in a cord and used to tie one of the +leaves of the fan palm over his head. + +"How's that for a bonnet?" he demanded. + +The improvised head-gear bore so grotesque a resemblance to a recent type +of picture hat that Winthrope could not repress a derisive laugh. Miss +Leslie, however, examined the hat and gave her opinion without a sign +of amusement. "I think it is splendid, Mr. Blake. If we must go out in +the sun again, it is just the thing to protect one." + +"Yes. Here's two more I've fixed for you. Ready yet, Winthrope?" + +The Englishman nodded, and the three sat down to their third feast of +cocoanuts. They were hungry enough at the start, and Blake added no +little keenness even to his own appetite by a grim joke on the slender +prospects of the next meal, to the effect that, if in the meantime not +eaten themselves, they might possibly find their next meal within a week. + +"But if we must move, could we not take some of the nuts with us?" +suggested Winthrope. + +Blake pondered over this as he ate, and when, fully satisfied, he helped +himself up with his club, he motioned the others to remain seated. + +"There are your hats and the strings," he said, "but you won't need +them now. I'm going to take a prospect along the river; and while I'm +gone, you can make a try at stringing nuts on some of this leaf fibre." + +"But, Mr. Blake, do you think it's quite safe?" asked Miss Leslie, +and she glanced from him to the jungle. + +"Safe?" he repeated. "Well, nothing ate you yesterday, if that's +anything to go by. It's all I know about it." + +He did not wait for further protests. Swinging his club on his shoulder, +he started for the break in the jungle which marked the hippopotamus +path. The others looked at each other, and Miss Leslie sighed. + +"If only he were a gentleman!" she complained. + +Winthrope turned abruptly to the cocoanuts. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +AROUND THE HEADLAND + + +It was mid morning before Blake reappeared. He came from the mangrove +swamp where it ran down into the sea. His trousers were smeared to the +thigh with slimy mud; but as he approached, the drooping brim of his +palm-leaf hat failed to hide his exultant expression. + +"Come on!" he called. "I've struck it. We'll be over in half an +hour." + +"How's that?" asked Winthrope. + +"Bar," answered Blake, hurrying forward. "Sling on your hats, and get +into my coat again, Miss Jenny. The sun's hot as yesterday. How about +the nuts?" + +"Here they are. Three strings; all that I fancied we could carry," +explained Winthrope. + +"All right. The big one is mine, I suppose. I'll take two. We'll leave +the other. Lean on me, if your ankle is still weak." + +"Thanks; I can make it alone. But must we go through mud like that?" + +"Not on this side, at least. Come on! We don't want to miss the ebb." + +Blake's impatience discouraged further inquiries. He had turned as he +spoke, and the others followed him, walking close together. The pace +was sharp for Winthrope, and his ankle soon began to twinge. He was +compelled to accept Miss Leslie's invitation to take her arm. With her +help, he managed to keep within a few yards of Blake. + +Instead of plunging into the mangrove wood, which here was undergrown +with a thicket of giant ferns, Blake skirted around in the open until +they came to the seashore. The tide was at its lowest, and he waved his +club towards a long sand spit which curved out around the seaward edge +of the mangroves. Whether this was part of the river's bar, or had been +heaped up by the cyclone would have been beyond Winthrope's knowledge, +had the question occurred to him. It was enough for him that the sand was +smooth and hard as a race track. + +Presently the party came to the end of the spit, where the river water +rippled over the sand with the last feeble out-suck of the ebb. On their +right they had a sweeping view of the river, around the flank of the +mangrove screen. Blake halted at the edge of the water, and half turned. + +"Close up," he said. "It's shallow enough; but do you see those logs +over on the mud-bank? Those are alligators." + +"Mercy!--and you expect me to wade among such creatures?" cried Miss +Leslie. + +"I went almost across an hour ago, and they didn't bother me any. Come +on! There's wind in that cloud out seaward. Inside half an hour the +surf'll be rolling up on this bar like all Niagara." + +"If we must, we must, Miss Genevieve," urged Winthrope. "Step behind +me, and gather up your skirts. It's best to keep one's clothes dry in +the tropics." + +The girl blushed, and retained his arm. + +"I prefer to help you," she replied. + +"Come on!" called Blake, and he splashed out into the water. + +The others followed within arm's-length, nervously conscious of the rows +of motionless reptiles on the mud-flat, not a hundred yards distant. + +In the centre of the bar, where the water was a trifle over knee-deep, +some large creature came darting down-stream beneath the surface, and +passed with a violent swirl between Blake and his companions. At Miss +Leslie's scream, Blake whirled about and jabbed with his club at the +supposed alligator. + +"Where's the brute? Has he got you?" he shouted. + +"No, no; he went by!" gasped Winthrope. "There he is!" + +A long bony snout, fringed on either side by a row of lateral teeth, was +flung up into view. + +"Sawfish!" said Blake, and he waded on across the bar, without further +comment. + +Miss Leslie had been on the point of fainting. The tone of Blake's voice +revived her instantly. + +There were no more scares. A few minutes later they waded out upon a +stretch of clean sand on the south side of the river. Before them the +beach lay in a flattened curve, which at the far end hooked sharply +to the left, and appeared to terminate at the foot of the towering +limestone cliffs of the headland. A mile or more inland the river jungle +edged in close to the cliffs; but from there to the beach the forest +was separated from the wall of rock by a little sandy plain, covered +with creeping plants and small palms. The greatest width of the open +space was hardly more than a quarter of a mile. + +Blake paused for a moment at high-tide mark, and Winthrope instantly +squatted down to nurse his ankle. + +"I say, Blake," he said, "can't you find me some kind of a crutch? +It is only a few yards around to those trees." + +"Good Lord! you haven't been fool enough to overstrain that ankle-- +Yes, you have. Dammit! why couldn't you tell me before?" + +"It did not feel so painful in the water." + +"I helped the best I could," interposed Miss Leslie. "I think if you +could get Mr. Winthrope a crutch--" + +"Crutch!" growled Blake. "How long do you think it would take me to +wade through the mud? And look at that cloud! We're in for a squall. +Here!" + +He handed the girl the smaller string of cocoanuts, flung the other up +the beach, and stooped for Winthrope to mount his back. He then started +off along the beach at a sharp trot. Miss Leslie followed as best she +could, the heavy cocoanuts swinging about with every step and bruising +her tender body. + +The wind was coming faster than Blake had calculated. Before they had +run two hundred paces, they heard the roar of rain-lashed water, and the +squall struck them with a force that almost overthrew the girl. With the +wind came torrents of rain that drove through their thickest garments +and drenched them to the skin within the first half-minute. + +Blake slackened his pace to a walk, and plodded sullenly along beneath +the driving down-pour. He kept to the lower edge of the beach, where the +sand was firmest, for the force of the falling deluge beat down the waves +and held in check the breakers which the wind sought to roll up the beach. + +The rain storm was at its height when they reached the foot of the +cliffs. The gray rock towered above them, thirty or forty feet high. +Blake deposited Winthrope upon a wet ledge, and straightened up to scan +the headland. Here and there ledges ran more than half-way up the rocky +wall; in other places the crest was notched by deep clefts; but nowhere +within sight did either offer a continuous path to the summit. Blake +grunted with disgust. + +"It'd take a fire ladder to get up this side," he said. "We'll +have to try the other, if we can get around the point. I'm going on +ahead. You can follow, after Pat has rested his ankle. Keep a sharp +eye out for anything in the flint line--quartz or agate. That means +fire. Another thing, when this rain blows over, don't let your clothes +dry on you. I've got my hands full enough, without having to nurse you +through malarial fever. Don't forget the cocoanuts, and if I don't +show up by noon, save me some." + +He stooped to drink from a pool in the rock which was overflowing with +the cool, pure rainwater, and started off at his sharpest pace. Winthrope +and Miss Leslie, seated side by side in dripping misery, watched him +swing away through the rain, without energy enough to call out a parting +word. + +Beneath the cliff the sand beach was succeeded by a talus of rocky debris +which in places sloped up from the water ten or fifteen feet. The lower +part of the slope consisted of boulders and water-worn stones, over which +the surf, reinforced by the rising tide, was beginning to break with +an angry roar. + +Blake picked his way quickly over the smaller stones near the top of +the slope, now and then bending to snatch up a fragment that seemed to +differ from the others. Finding nothing but limestone, he soon turned +his attention solely to the passage around the headland. Here he had +expected to find the surf much heavier. But the shore was protected by +a double line of reefs, so close in that the channel between did not +show a whitecap. This was fortunate, since in places the talus here sank +down almost to the level of low tide. Even a moderate surf would have +rendered farther progress impracticable. + +Another hundred paces brought Blake to the second corner of the cliff, +which jutted out in a little point. He clambered around it, and stopped +to survey the coast beyond. Within the last few minutes the squall had +blown over, and the rain began to moderate its down-pour. The sun, +bursting through the clouds, told that the storm was almost past, and +its flood of direct light cleared the view. + +Along the south side of the cliff the sea extended in twice as far as +on the north. From the end of the talus the coast trended off four or +five miles to the south-southwest in a shallow bight, whose southern +extremity was bounded by a second limestone headland. This ridge ran +inland parallel to the first, and from a point some little distance back +from the shore was covered with a growth of leafless trees. + +Between the two ridges lay a plain, open along the shore, but a short +distance inland covered with a jungle of tall yellow grass, above +which, here and there, rose the tops of scrubby, leafless trees and the +graceful crests of slender-shafted palms. Blake's attention was drawn +to the latter by that feeling of artificiality which their exotic +appearance so often wakens in the mind of the Northern-bred man even +after long residence in the tropics. But in a moment he turned away, +with a growl. "More of those darned feather-dusters!" He was not +looking for palms. + +The last ragged bit of cloud, with its showery accompaniment, drifted +past before the breeze which followed the squall, and the end of the +storm was proclaimed by a deafening chorus of squawks and screams along +the higher ledges of the cliff. Staring upward, Blake for the first time +observed that the face of the cliff swarmed with seafowl. + +"That's luck!" he muttered. "Guess I haven't forgot how to rob +nests. Bet our fine lady'll shy at sucking them raw! All the same, +she'll have to, if I don't run across other rock than this, poor girl!" + +He advanced again along the talus, and did not stop until he reached +the sand beach. There he halted to make a careful examination, not +only of the loose debris, but of the solid rock above. Finding no sign +of flint or quartz, he growled out a curse, and backed off along the +beach, to get a view of the cliff top. From a point a little beyond him, +outward to the extremity of the headland, he could see that the upper +ledges and the crest of the cliff, as well, were fairly crowded with +seafowl and their nests. His smile of satisfaction broadened when he +glanced inland and saw, less than half a mile distant, a wooded cleft +which apparently ran up to the summit of the ridge. From a point near +the top a gigantic baobab tree towered up against the skyline like a +Brobdingnagian cabbage. + +"Say, we may have a run for our money, after all," he murmured. +"Shade, and no end of grub, and, by the green of those trees, a +spring--limestone water at that. Next thing, I'll find a flint!" + +He slapped his leg, and both sound and feeling reminded him that his +clothes were drenched. + +"Guess we'll wait about that flint," he said, and he made for a clump +of thorn scrub a little way inland. + +As the tall grass did not grow here within a mile of the shore, there +was nothing to obstruct him. The creeping plants which during the rainy +season had matted over the sandy soil were now leafless and withered by +the heat of the dry season. Even the thorn scrub was half bare of leaves. + +Blake walked around the clump to the shadiest side, and began to strip. +In quick succession, one garment after another was flung across a branch +where the sun would strike it. Last of all, the shoes were emptied of +rainwater and set out to dry. Without a pause, he then gave himself a +quick, light rub-down, just sufficient to invigorate the skin without +starting the perspiration. + +Physically the man was magnificent. His muscles were wiry and compact, +rather than bulky, and as he moved, they played beneath his white skin +with the smoothness and ease of a tiger's. + +After the rub-down, he squatted on his heels, and spent some time trying +to bend his palm-leaf hat back into shape. When he had placed this also +out in the sun, he found himself beginning to yawn. The dry, sultry +air had made him drowsy. A touch with his bare foot showed him that the +sand beneath the thorn bush had already absorbed the rain and offered +a dry surface. He glanced around, drew his club nearer, and stretched +himself out for a nap. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE CLUB AGE + + +It was past two o'clock when the sun, striking in where Blake lay +outstretched, began to scorch one of his legs. He stirred uneasily, and +sat upright. Like a sailor, he was wide awake the moment he opened his +eyes. He stood up, and peered around through the half leafless branches. + +Over the water thousands of gulls and terns, boobies and cormorants +were skimming and diving, while above them a number of graceful frigate +birds--those swart, scarlet-throated pirates of the air,--hung poised, +ready to swoop down and rob the weaker birds of their fish. All about +the headland and the surrounding water was life in fullest action. Even +from where he stood Blake could hear the harsh clamor of the seafowl. + +In marked contrast to this scene, the plain was apparently lifeless. +When Blake rose, a small brown lizard darted away across the sand. +Otherwise there was neither sight nor sound of a living creature. Blake +pondered this as he gathered his clothes into the shade and began to +dress. + +"Looks like the siesta is the all-round style in this God-forsaken +hole," he grumbled. "Haven't seen so much as a rabbit, nor even one +land bird. May be a drought--no; must be the dry season-- Whee, these +things are hot! I'm thirsty as a shark. Now, where's that softy and +her Ladyship? 'Fraid she's in for a tough time!" + +He drew on his shoes with a jerk, growled at their stiffness, and club in +hand, stepped clear of the brush to look for his companions. The first +glance along the foot of the cliff showed him Winthrope lying under the +shade of the overhanging ledges, a few yards beyond the sand beach. Of +Miss Leslie there was no sign. Half alarmed by this, Blake started for +the beach with his swinging stride. Winthrope was awake, and on Blake's +approach, sat up to greet him. + +"Hello!" he called. "Where have you been all this time?" + +"'Sleep. Where's Miss Leslie?" + +"She's around the point." + +Blake grinned mockingly. "Indeed! But I fawncy she won't be for long." + +He would have passed on, but Winthrope stepped before him. + +"Don't go out there, Blake," he protested. "I--ah--think it would be +better if I went." + +"Why?" demanded Blake. + +Winthrope hesitated; but an impatient movement by Blake forced an answer: +"Well, you remember, this morning, telling us to dry our clothes." + +"Yes; I remember," said Blake. "So you want to serve as lady's +valet?" + +Winthrope's plump face turned a sickly yellow. + +"I--ah--valet?--What do you mean, sir? I protest--I do not understand +you!" he stammered. But in the midst, catching sight of Blake's +bewildered stare, he suddenly flushed crimson, and burst out in +unrestrained anger: "You--you bounder--you beastly cad! Any man with +an ounce of decency--" + +Blake uttered a jeering laugh-- "Wow! Hark, how the British lion +r-r-ro-ars when his tail's twisted!" + +"You beastly cad!" repeated the Englishman, now purple with rage. + +Blake's unpleasant pleasantry gave place to a scowl. His jaw thrust +out like a bulldog's, and he bent towards Winthrope with a menacing +look. For a moment the Englishman faced him, sustained by his anger. But +there was a steely light in Blake's eyes that he could not withstand. +Winthrope's defiant stare wavered and fell. He shrank back, the color +fast ebbing from his cheeks. + +"Ugh!" growled Blake. "Guess you won't blat any more about cads! You +damned hypocrite! Maybe I'm not on to how you've been hanging around +Miss Leslie just because she's an heiress. Anything is fair enough for +you swells. But let a fellow so much as open his mouth about your exalted +set, and it's perfectly dreadful, you know!" + +He paused for a reply. Winthrope only drew back a step farther, and +eyed him with a furtive, sidelong glance. This brought Blake back to +his mocking jeer. "You'll learn, Pat, me b'y. There's lots of +things'll show up different to you before we get through this picnic. +For one thing, I'm boss here--president, congress, and supreme court. +Understand?" + +"By what right, may I ask?" murmured Winthrope. + +"Right!" answered Blake. "That hasn't anything to do with the +question--it's might. Back in civilized parts, your little crowd has +the drop on my big crowd, and runs things to suit themselves. But +here we've sort of reverted to primitive society. This happens to be +the Club Age, and I'm the Man with the Big Stick. See?" + +"I myself sympathize with the lower classes, Mr. Blake. Above all, I +think it barbarous the way they punish one who is forced by circumstances +to appropriate part of the ill-gotten gains of the rich upstarts. But +do you believe, Mr. Blake, that brute strength--" + +"You bet! Now shut up. Where're the cocoanuts?" + +Winthrope picked up two nuts and handed them over. + +"There were only five," he explained. + +"All right. I'm no captain of industry." + +"Ah, true; you said we had reverted to barbarism," rejoined Winthrope, +venturing an attempt at sarcasm. + +"Lucky for you!" retorted Blake. "But where's Miss Leslie all this +time? Her clothes must have dried hours ago." + +"They did. We had luncheon together just this side of the point." + +"Oh, you did! Then why shouldn't I go for her?" + +"I--I--there was a shaded pool around the point, and she thought a dip +in the salt water would refresh her. She went not more than half an hour +ago." + +"So that's it. Well, while I eat, you go and call her--and say, you +keep this side the point. I'm looking out for Miss Leslie now." + +Winthrope hurried away, clenching his fists and almost weeping with +impotent rage. Truly, matters were now very different from what they had +been aboard ship. Fortunately he had not gone a dozen steps before Miss +Leslie appeared around the corner of the cliff. He was scrambling along +over the loose stones of the slope without the slightest consideration +for his ankle. The girl, more thoughtful, waved to him to wait for her +where he was. + +As she approached, Blake's frown gave place to a look that made his +face positively pleasant. He had already drained the cocoanuts; now +he proceeded to smash the shells into small bits, that he might eat the +meat, and at the same time keep his gaze on the girl. The cliff foot +being well shaded by the towering wall of rock, she had taken off his +coat, and was carrying it on her arm; so that there was nothing to mar +the effect of her dainty openwork waist, with its elbow sleeves and +graceful collar and the filmy veil of lace over the shoulders and bosom. +Her skirt had been washed clean by the rain, and she had managed to +stretch it into shape before drying. + +Refreshed by a nap in the forenoon and by her salt-water dip, she showed +more vivacity than at any time that Winthrope could remember during their +acquaintance. Her suffering during and since the storm had left its +mark in the dark circles beneath her hazel eyes, but this in no wise +lessened their brightness; while the elasticity of her step showed that +she had quite recovered her well-bred ease and grace of movement. + +She bowed and smiled to the two men impartially. "Good-afternoon, +gentlemen." + +"Same to you, Miss Leslie!" responded Blake, staring at her with frank +admiration. "You look fresh as a daisy." + +Genial and sincere as was his tone, the familiarity jarred on her +sensitive ear. She colored as she turned from him. + +"Is there anything new, Mr. Winthrope?" she asked. + +"I'm afraid not, Miss Genevieve. Like ourselves, Blake took a nap." + +"Yes; but Blake first took a squint at the scenery. Just see if you've +got everything, and fix your hats. We'll be in the sun for half a mile +or so. Better get on the coat, Miss Leslie. It's hotter than yesterday." + +"Permit me," said Winthrope. + +Blake watched while the Englishman held the coat for the girl and rather +fussily raised the collar about her neck and turned back the sleeves, +which extended beyond the tips of her fingers. The American's face +was stolid; but his glance took in every little look and act of his +companions. He was not altogether unversed in the ways of good society, +and it seemed to him that the Englishman was somewhat over-assiduous in +his attentions. + +"All ready, Blake," remarked Winthrope, finally, with a last lingering +touch. + +"'Bout time!" grunted Blake. "You're fussy as a tailor. Got the +flask and cigarette case and the knife?" + +"All safe, sir--er--all safe, Blake." + +"Then you two follow me slow enough not to worry that ankle. I don't +want any more of the pack-mule in mine." + +"Where are we going, Mr. Blake?" exclaimed Miss Leslie. "You will not +leave us again!" + +"It's only a half-mile, Miss Jenny. There's a break in the ridge. I'm +going on ahead to find if it's hard to climb." + +"But why should we climb?" + +"Food, for one thing. You see, this end of the cliff is covered with +sea-birds. Another thing, I expect to strike a spring." + +"Oh, I hope you do! The water in the rain pools is already warm." + +"They'll be dry in a day or two. Say, Winthrope, you might fetch some +of those stones--size of a ball. I used to be a fancy pitcher when I was +a kid, and we might scare up a rabbit or something." + +"I play cricket myself. But these stones--" + +"Better'n a gun, when you haven't got the gun. Come on. We'll go in +a bunch, after all, in case I need stones." + +With due consideration for Winthrope's ankle,--not for Winthrope,--Blake +set so slow a pace that the half-mile's walk consumed over half an +hour. But his smouldering irritation was soon quenched when they drew +near the green thicket at the foot of the cleft. In the almost +deathlike stillness of mid-afternoon, the sound of trickling water came +to their ears, clear and musical. + +"A spring!" shouted Blake. "I guessed right. Look at those green +plants and grass; there's the channel where it runs out in the sand and +dries up." + +The others followed him eagerly as he pushed in among the trees. They +saw no running water, for the tiny rill that trickled down the ledges +was matted over with vines. But at the foot of the slope lay a pool, some +ten yards across, and overshadowed by the surrounding trees. There was +no underbrush, and the ground was trampled bare as a floor. + +"By Jove," said Winthrope; "see the tracks! There must have been a +drove of sheep about." + +"Deer, you mean," replied Blake, bending to examine the deeper prints +at the edge of the pool. "These ain't sheep tracks. A lot of them are +larger." + +"Could you not uncover the brook?" asked Miss Leslie. "If animals have +been drinking here, one would prefer cleaner water." + +"Sure," assented Blake. "If you're game for a climb, and can wait a +few minutes, we'll get it out of the spring itself. We've got to go +up anyway, to get at our poultry yard." + +"Here's a place that looks like a path," called Winthrope, who had +circled about the edge of the pool to the farther side. + +Blake ran around beside him, and stared at the tunnel-like passage which +wound up the limestone ledges beneath the over-arching thickets. + +"Odd place, is it not?" observed Winthrope. "Looks like a fox run, +only larger, you know." + +"Too low for deer, though--and their hoofs would have cut up the moss +and ferns more. Let's get a close look." + +As he spoke, Blake stooped and climbed a few yards up the trail to an +overhanging ledge, four or five feet high. Where the trail ran up over +this break in the slope the stone was bare of all vegetation. Blake +laid his club on the top of the ledge, and was about to vault after it, +when, directly beneath his nose, he saw the print of a great catlike paw, +outlined in dried mud. At the same instant a deep growl came rumbling +down the "fox run." Without waiting for a second warning, Blake drew +his club to him, and crept back down the trail. His stealthy movements +and furtive backward glances filled his companions with vague terror. +He himself was hardly less alarmed. + +"Get out of the trees--into the open!" he exclaimed in a hoarse +whisper, and as they crept away, white with dread of the unknown danger, +he followed at their heels, looking backward, his club raised in +readiness to strike. + +Once clear of the trees, Winthrope caught Miss Leslie by the hand, and +broke into a run. In their terror, they paid no heed to Blake's command +to stop. They had darted off so unexpectedly that he did not overtake +them short of a hundred yards. + +"Hold on!" he said, gripping Winthrope roughly by the shoulder. "It's +safe enough here, and you'll knock out that blamed ankle." + +"What is it? What did you see?" gasped Miss Leslie. + +"Footprint," mumbled Blake, ashamed of his fright. + +"A lion's?" cried Winthrope. + +"Not so large--'bout the size of a puma's. Must be a leopard's den +up there. I heard a growl, and thought it about time to clear out." + +"By Jove, we'd better withdraw around the point!" + +"Withdraw your aunty! There's no leopard going to tackle us out here in +open ground this time of day. The sneaking tomcat! If only I had a match, +I'd show him how we smoke rat holes." + +"Mr. Winthrope spoke of rubbing sticks to make fire," suggested Miss +Leslie. + +"Make sweat, you mean. But we may as well try it now, if we're going +to at all. The sun's hot enough to fry eggs. We'll go back to a shady +place, and pick up sticks on the way." + +Though there was shade under the cliff within some six hundred feet, +they had to go some distance to the nearest dry wood--a dead thorp-bush. +Here they gathered a quantity of branches, even Miss Leslie volunteering +to carry a load. + +All was thrown down in a heap near the cliff, and Blake squatted beside +it, penknife in hand. Having selected the dryest of the larger sticks, +he bored a hole in one side and dropped in a pinch of powdered bark. +Laying the stick in the full glare of the sun, he thrust a twig into the +hole, and began to twirl it between his palms. This movement he kept up +for several minutes; but whether he was unable to twirl the twig fast +enough, or whether the right kind of wood or tinder was lacking, all his +efforts failed to produce a spark. + +Unwilling to accept the failure, Winthrope insisted upon trying in turn, +and pride held him to the task until he was drenched with sweat. The +result was the same. + +"Told you so," jeered Blake from where he. lay in the shade. "We'd +stand more chance cracking stones together." + +"But what shall we do now?" asked Miss Leslie. "I am becoming very +tired of cocoanuts, and there seems to be nothing else around here. +Indeed, I think this is all such a waste of time. If we had walked +straight along the shore this morning we might have reached a town." + +"We might, Miss Jenny, and then, again, we mightn't. I happened to +overhaul the captain's chart--Quilimane, Mozambique--that's all +for hundreds of miles. Towns on this coast are about as thick as +hens'-teeth." + +"How about native villages?" demanded Winthrope. + +"Oh, yes; maybe I'm fool enough to go into a wild nigger town without a +gun. Maybe I didn't talk with fellows down on the Rand." + +"But what shall we do?" repeated Miss Leslie, with a little frightened +catch in her voice. She was at last beginning to realize what this rude +break in her sheltered, pampered life might mean. "What shall we do? +It's--it's absurd to think of having to stay in this horrid country +for weeks or perhaps months--unless some ship comes for us!" + +"Look here, Miss Leslie," answered Blake, sharply yet not unkindly; +"suppose you just sit back and use your thinker a bit. If you're +your daddy's daughter, you've got brains somewhere down under the +boarding-school stuff." + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"Now, don't get huffy, please! It's a question of think, not of +putting on airs. Here we are, worse off than the people of the Stone +Age. They had fire and flint axes; we've got nothing but our think +tanks, and as to lions and leopards and that sort of thing, it strikes me +we've got about as many on hand as they had." + +"Then you and Mr. Winthrope should immediately arm yourselves." + +"How?--But we'll leave that till later. What else?" + +The girl gazed at the surrounding objects, her forehead wrinkled in the +effort at concentration. "We must have water. Think how we suffered +yesterday! Then there is shelter from wild beasts, and food, and--" + +"All right here under our hands, if we had fire. Understand?" + +"I understand about the water. You would frighten the leopard away with +the fire; and if it would do that, it would also keep away the other +animals at night. But as for food, unless we return for cocoanuts--" + +"Don't give it up! Keep your thinker going on the side, while Pat tells +us our next move. Now that he's got the fire sticks out of his head--" + +"I say, Blake, I wish you would drop that name. It is no harder to say +Winthrope." + +"You're off, there," rejoined Blake. "But look here, I'll make it +Win, if you figure out what we ought to do next." + +"Really, Blake, that would not be half bad. They--er--they called me Win +at Harrow." + +"That so? My English chum went to Harrow--Jimmy Scarbridge." + +"Lord James!--your chum?" + +"He started in like you, sort of top-lofty. But he chummed all +right--after I took out a lot of his British starch with a good +walloping." + +"Oh, really now, Blake, you can't expect any one with brains to believe +that, you know!" + +"No; I don't know, you know,--and I don't know if you've got any +brains, you know. Here's your chance to show us. What's our next move?" + +"Really, now, I have had no experience in this sort of thing--don't +interrupt, please! It seems to me that our first concern is shelter for +the night. If we should return to your tree nest, we should also be near +the cocoa palms." + +"That's one side. Here's the other. Bar to wade across--sharks and +alligators; then swampy ground--malaria, mosquitoes, thorn jungle. Guess +the hands of both of you are still sore enough, by their look." + +"If only I had a pot of cold cream!" sighed Miss Leslie. + +"If only I had a hunk of jerked beef!" echoed Blake. + +"I say, why couldn't we chance it for the night around on the seaward +face of the cliff?" asked Winthrope. "I noticed a place where the +ledges overhang--almost a cave. Do you think it probable that any wild +beast would venture so close to the sea?" + +"Can't say. Didn't see any tracks; so we'll chance it for to-night. +Next!" + +"By morning I believe my ankle will be in such shape that I could go +back for the string of cocoanuts which we dropped on the beach." + +"I'll go myself, to-day, else we'll have no supper. Now we're getting +down to bedrock. If those nuts haven't been washed away by the tide, +we're fixed for to-night; and for two meals, such as they are. But what +next? Even the rain pools will be dried up by another day or so." + +"Are not sea-birds good to eat?" inquired Miss Leslie. + +"Some." + +"Then, if only we could climb the cliff--might there not be another +place?" + +"No; I've looked at both sides. What's more, that spotted tomcat has +got a monopoly on our water supply. The river may be fresh at low tide; +but we've got nothing to boil water in, and such bayou stuff is just +concentrated malaria." + +"Then we must find water elsewhere," responded Miss Leslie. "Might +we not succeed if we went on to the other ridge?" + +"That's the ticket! You've got a headpiece, Miss Jenny! It's too +late to start now. But first thing to-morrow I'll take a run down that +way, while you two lay around camp and see if you can twist some sort of +fish-line out of cocoanut fibre. By braiding your hair, Miss Jenny, you +can spare us your hair-pins for hooks." + +"But, Mr. Blake, I'm afraid--I'd rather you'd take us with you. With +that dreadful creature so near--" + +"Well, I don't know. Let's see your feet?" + +Miss Leslie glanced at him, and thrust a slender foot from beneath her +skirt. + +"Um-m--stocking torn; but those slippers are tougher than I thought. +Most of the way will be good walking, along the beach. We'll leave the +fishing to Pat--er--beg pardon--Win! With his ankle--" + +"By Jove, Blake, I'll chance the ankle. Don't leave me behind. I give +you my word, you'll not have to lug me." + +"Oh, of course, Mr. Winthrope must go with us!" + +"'Fraid to go alone, eh?" demanded Blake, frowning. + +His tone startled and offended her; yet all he saw was a politely +quizzical lifting of her brows. + +"Why should I be afraid, Mr. Blake?" she asked. + +Blake stared at her moodily. But when she met his gaze with a confiding +smile, he flushed and looked away. + +"All right," he muttered; "well move camp together. But don't expect +me to pack his ludship, if we draw a blank and have to trek back without +food or water." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE LEOPARDS' DEN + + +While Blake made a successful trip for the abandoned cocoanuts, his +companions levelled the stones beneath the ledges chosen by Winthrope, +and gathered enough dried sea-weed along the talus to soften the hard +beds. + +Soothed by the monotonous wash of the sea among the rocks, even Miss +Leslie slept well. Blake, who had insisted that she should retain his +coat, was wakened by the chilliness preceding the dawn. Five minutes +later they started on their journey. + +The starlight glimmered on the waves and shed a faint radiance over the +rocks. This and their knowledge of the way enabled them to pick a path +along the foot of the cliff without difficulty. Once on the beach, they +swung along at a smart gait, invigorated by the cool air. + +Dawn found them half way to their goal. Blake called a halt when the +first red streaks shot up the eastern sky. All stood waiting until +the quickly following sun sprang forth from the sea. Blake's first +act was to glance from one headland to the other, estimating their +relative distances. His grunt of satisfaction was lost in Winthrope's +exclamation, "By Jove, look at the cattle!" + +Blake and Miss Leslie turned to stare at the droves of animals moving +about between them and the border of the tall grass. Miss Leslie was the +first to speak. "They can't be cattle, Mr. Winthrope. There are some +with stripes. I do believe they're zebras!" + +"Get down!" commanded Blake. "They're all wild game. Those big +ox-like fellows to the left of the zebras are eland. Whee! wouldn't we +be in it if we owned that water hole? I'll bet I'd have one of those +fat beeves inside three days." + +"How I should enjoy a juicy steak!" murmured Miss Leslie. + +"Raw or jerked?" questioned Blake. + +"What is 'jerked'?" + +"Dried." + +"Oh, no; I mean broiled--just red inside." + +"I prefer mine quite rare," added Winthrope. + +"That's the way you'll get it, damned rare--Beg your pardon, Miss +Jenny! Without fire, we'll have the choice of raw or jerked." + +"Horrors!" + +"Jerked meat is all right. You cut your game in strips--" + +"With a penknife!" laughed Miss Leslie. + +Blake stared at her glumly. "That's so. You've got it back on +me-- Butcher a beef with a penknife! We'll have to take it raw, and +dog-fashion at that." + +"Haven't I heard of bamboo knives?" said Winthrope. + +"Bamboo?" + +"I'm sure I can't say, but as I remember, it seems to me that the +varnish-like glaze--" + +"Silica? Say, that would cut meat. But where in--where in hades are the +bamboos?" + +"I'm sure I can't say. Only I remember that I have seen them in other +tropical places, you know." + +"Meantime I prefer cocoanuts, until we have a fire to broil our +steaks," remarked Miss Leslie. + +"Ditto, Miss Jenny, long's we have the nuts and no meat. I'm a +vegetarian now--but maybe my mouth ain't watering for something else. +Look at all those chops and roasts and stews running around out there!" + +"They are making for the grass," observed Winthrope. "Hadn't we +better start?" + +"Nuts won't weigh so much without the shells. We'll eat right here." + +There were only a few nuts left. They were drained and cracked and +scooped out, one after another. The last chanced to break evenly across +the middle. + +"Hello," said Blake, "the lower part of this will do for a bowl, Miss +Jenny. When you've eaten the cream, put it in your pocket. Say, Win, +have you got the bottle and keys and--" + +"All safe--everything." + +"Are you sure, Mr. Winthrope?" asked Miss Leslie. "Men's pockets seem +so open. Twice I've had to pick up Mr. Blake's locket." + +"Locket?" echoed Blake. + +"The ivory locket. Women may be curious, Mr. Blake, but I assure you, I +did not look inside, though--" + +"Let me--give it here--quick!" gasped Blake. + +Startled by his tone and look, Miss Leslie caught an oval object from +the side pocket of the coat, and thrust it into Blake's outstretched +hand. For a moment he stared at it, unable to believe his eyes; then +he leaped up, with a yell that sent the droves of zebras and antelope +flying into the tall grass. + +"Oh! oh!" screamed Miss Leslie. "Is it a snake? Are you bitten?" + +"Bitten?--Yes, by John Barleycorn! Must have been fuzzy drunk to put it +in my coat. Always carry it in my fob pocket. What a blasted infernal +idiot I've been! Kick me, Win,--kick me hard!" + +"I say, Blake, what is it? I don't quite take you. If you would only--" + +"Fire!--_fire!_ Can't you see? We've got all hell beat! Look here." + +He snapped open the slide of the supposed locket, and before either of +his companions could realize what he would be about, was focussing the +lens of a surveyor's magnifying-glass upon the back of Winthrope's +hand. The Englishman jerked the hand away-- + +"_Ow!_ That burns!" + +Blake shook the glass in their bewildered faces. + +"Look there!" he shouted, "there's fire; there's water; there's +birds' eggs and beefsteaks! Here's where we trek on the back trail. +We'll smoke out that leopard in short order!" + +"You don't mean to say, Blake--" + +"No; I mean to do! Don't worry. You can hide with Miss Jenny on the +point, while I engineer the deal. Fall in." + +The day was still fresh when they found themselves back at the foot of +the cliff. Here arose a heated debate between the men. Winthrope, stung +by Blake's jeering words, insisted upon sharing the attack, though with +no great enthusiasm. Much to Blake's surprise, Miss Leslie came to the +support of the Englishman. + +"But, Mr. Blake," she argued, "you say it will be perfectly safe for +us here. If so, it will be safe for myself alone." + +"I can play this game without him." + +"No doubt. Yet if, as you say, you expect to keep off the leopard with +a torch, would it not be well to have Mr. Winthrope at hand with other +torches, should yours burn out?" + +"Yes; if I thought he'd be at hand after the first scare." + +Winthrope started off, almost on a run. At that moment he might have +faced the leopard single-handed. Blake chuckled as he swung away after +his victim. Within ten paces, however, he paused to call back over his +shoulder: "Get around the point, Miss Jenny, and if you want something +to do, try braiding the cocoanut fibre." + +Miss Leslie made no response; but she stood for some time gazing after +the two men. There was so much that was characteristic even in this rear +view. For all his anger and his haste, the Englishman bore himself +with an air of well-bred nicety. His trim, erect figure needed only a +fresh suit to be irreproachable. On the other hand, a careless observer, +at first glance, might have mistaken Blake, with his flannel shirt and +shouldered club, for a hulking navvy. But there was nothing of the +navvy in his swinging stride or in the resolute poise of his head as he +came up with Winthrope. + +Though the girl was not given to reflection, the contrast between the two +could not but impress her. How well her countryman--coarse, uncultured, +but full of brute strength and courage--fitted in with these primitive +surroundings. Whereas Winthrope . . . . and herself . . . . + +She fell into a kind of disquieted brown study. Her eyes had an odd +look, both startled and meditative,--such a look as might be expected +of one who for the first time is peering beneath the surface of things, +and sees the naked Realities of Life, the real values, bared of masking +conventions. It may have been that she was seeking to ponder the meaning +of her own existence--that she had caught a glimpse of the vanity and +wastefulness, the utter futility of her life. At the best, it could +only have been a glimpse. But was not that enough? + +"Of what use are such people as I?" she cried. "That man may be rough +and coarse,--even a brute; but he at least does things--I'll show him +that I can do things, too!" + +She hastened out around the corner of the cliff to the spot where they +had spent the night. Here she gathered together the cocoanut husks, +and seating herself in the shade of the overhanging ledges, began to +pick at the coarse fibre. It was cruel work for her soft fingers, +not yet fully healed from the thorn wounds. At times the pain and an +overpowering sense of injury brought tears to her eyes; still more +often she dropped the work in despair of her awkwardness. Yet always +she returned to the task with renewed energy. + +After no little perseverance, she found how to twist the fibre and plait +it into cord. At best it was slow work, and she did not see how she +should ever make enough cord for a fish-line. Yet, as she caught the +knack of the work and her fingers became more nimble, she began to enjoy +the novel pleasure of producing something. + +She had quite forgot to feel injured, and was learning to endure with +patience the rasping of the fibre between her fingers, when Winthrope +came clambering around the corner of the cliff. + +"What is it?" she exclaimed, springing up and hurrying to meet him. He +was white and quivering, and the look in his eyes filled her with dread. + +Her voice shrilled to a scream, "He's dead!" + +Winthrope shook his head. + +"Then he's hurt!--he's hurt by that savage creature, and you've run +off and left him--" + +"No, no, Miss Genevieve, I must insist! The fellow is not even +scratched." + +"Then why--?" + +"It was the horror of it all. It actually made me ill." + +"You frightened me almost to death. Did the beast chase you?" + +"That would have been better, in a way. Really, it was horrible! I'm +still sick over it, Miss Genevieve." + +"But tell me about it. Did you set fire to the bushes in the cleft, as +Mr. Blake--" + +"Yes; after we had fetched what we could carry of that long grass--two +big trusses. It grows ten or twelve feet tall, and is now quite dry. +Part of it Blake made into torches, and we fired the bush all across +the foot of the cleft. Really, one would not have thought there was that +much dry wood in so green a dell. On either side of the rill the grass +and brush flared like tinder, and the flames swept up the cleft far +quicker than we had expected. We could hear them crackling and roaring +louder than ever after the smoke shut out our view." + +"Surely, there is nothing so very horrible in that." + +"No, oh, no; it was not that. But the beast--the leopard! At first we +heard one roar; then it was that dreadful snarling and yelling--most +awful squalling! . . . . The wretched thing came leaping and +tumbling down the path, all singed and blinded. Blake fired the big +truss of grass, and the brute rolled right into the flames. It was +shocking--dreadfully shocking! The wretched creature writhed and leaped +about till it plunged into the pool. . . . . When it sought to crawl +out, all black and hideous, Blake went up and killed it with his +club--crushed in its skull--Ugh!" + +Miss Leslie gazed at the unnerved Englishman with calm scrutiny. + +"But why should you feel so about it?" she asked. "Was it not the +beast's life against ours?" + +"But so horrible a death!" + +"I'm sure Mr. Blake would have preferred to shoot the creature, had he +a gun. Having nothing else than fire, I think it was all very brave of +him. Now we are sure of water and food. Had we not best be going?" + +"It was to fetch you that Blake sent me." + +Winthrope spoke with perceptible stiffness. He was chagrined, not only +by her commendation of Blake, but by the indifference with which she had +met his agitation. + +They started at once, Miss Leslie in the lead. As they rounded the point, +she caught sight of the smoke still rising from the cleft. A little later +she noticed the vultures which were streaming down out of the sky from +all quarters other than seaward. Their focal point seemed to be the trees +at the foot of the cleft. A nearer view showed that they were alighting +in the thorn bushes on the south border of the wood. + +Of Blake there was nothing to be seen until Miss Leslie, still in the +lead, pushed in among the trees. There they found him crouched beside +a small fire, near the edge of the pool. He did not look up. His eyes +were riveted in a hungry stare upon several pieces of flesh, suspended +over the flames on spits of green twigs. + +"Hello!" he sang out, as he heard their footsteps. "Just in time, Miss +Jenny. Your broiled steak'll be ready in short order." + +"Oh, build up the fire! I'm simply ravenous!" she exclaimed, between +impatience and delight. + +Winthrope was hardly less keen; yet his hunger did not altogether blunt +his curiosity. + +"I say, Blake," he inquired, "where did you get the meat?" + +"Stow it, Win, my boy. This ain't a packing house. The stuff may be +tough, but it's not--er--the other thing. Here you are, Miss Jenny. Chew +it off the stick." + +Though Winthrope had his suspicions, he took the piece of half-burned +flesh which Blake handed him in turn, and fell to eating without further +question. As Blake had surmised, the roast proved far other than +tender. Hunger, however, lent it a most appetizing flavor. The repast +ended when there was nothing left to devour. Blake threw away his empty +spit, and rose to stretch. He waited for Miss Leslie to swallow her +last mouthful, and then began to chuckle. + +"What's the joke?" asked Winthrope. + +Blake looked at him solemnly. + +"Well now, that was downright mean of me," he drawled; "after robbing +them, to laugh at it!" + +"Robbing who?" + +"The buzzards." + +"You've fed us on leopard meat! It's--it's disgusting!" + +"I found it filling. How about you, Miss Jenny?" + +Miss Leslie did not know whether to laugh or to give way to a feeling +of nausea. She did neither. + +"Can we not find the spring of which you spoke?" she asked. "I am +thirsty." + +"Well, I guess the fire is about burnt out," assented Blake. "Come on; +we'll see." + +The cleft now had a far different aspect from what it had presented on +their first visit. The largest of the trees, though scorched about the +base, still stood with unwithered foliage, little harmed by the fire. +But many of their small companions had been killed and partly destroyed +by the heat and flames from the burning brush. In places the fire was yet +smouldering. + +Blake picked a path along the edge of the rill, where the moist +vegetation, though scorched, had refused to burn. After the first +abrupt ledge, up which Blake had to drag his companions, the ascent +was easy. But as they climbed around an outjutting corner of the steep +right wall of the cleft, Blake muttered a curse of disappointment. He +could now see that the cleft did not run to the top of the cliff, but +through it, like a tiny box canyon. The sides rose sheer and smooth as +walls. Midway, at the highest point of the cleft, the baobab towered high +above the ridge crest, its gigantic trunk filling a third of the breadth +of the little gorge. Unfortunately it stood close to the left wall. + +"Here's luck for you!" growled Blake. "Why couldn't the blamed old +tree have grown on the other side? We might have found a way to climb it. +Guess we'll have to smoke out another leopard. We're no nearer those +birds' nests than we were yesterday." + +"By Jove, look here!" exclaimed Winthrope. "This is our chance for +antelope! Here by the spring are bamboos--real bamboos,--and only half +the thicket burned." + +"What of them?" demanded Blake. + +"Bows--arrows--and did you not agree that they would make knives?" + +"Umph--we'll see. What is it, Miss Jenny?" + +"Isn't that a hole in the big tree?" + +"Looks like it. These baobabs are often hollow." + +"Perhaps that is where the leopard had his den," added Winthrope. + +"Shouldn't wonder. We'll go and see." + +"But, Mr. Blake," protested the girl, "may there not be other +leopards?" + +"Might have been; but I'll bet they lit out with the other. Look how +the tree is scorched. Must have been stacks of dry brush around the hole, +'nough to smoke out a fireman. We'll look and see if they left any soup +bones lying around. First, though, here's your drink, Miss Jenny." + +As he spoke, Blake kicked aside some smouldering branches, and led the +way to the crevice whence the spring trickled from the rock into a +shallow stone basin. When all had drunk their fill of the clear cool +water, Blake took up his club and walked straight across to the baobab. +Less than thirty steps brought him to the narrow opening in the trunk +of the huge tree. At first he could make out nothing in the dimly lit +interior; but the fetid, catty odor was enough to convince him that he +had found the leopards' den. + +He caught the vague outlines of a long body, crouched five or six +yards away, on the far side of the hollow. He sprang back, his club +brandished to strike. But the expected attack did not follow. Blake +glanced about as though considering the advisability of a retreat. +Winthrope and Miss Leslie were staring at him, white-faced. The sight of +their terror seemed to spur him to dare-devil bravado; though his +actions may rather have been due to the fact that he realized the +futility of flight, and so rose to the requirements of the situation--the +grim need to stand and face the danger. + +"Get behind the bamboos!" he called, and as they hurriedly obeyed, he +caught up a stone and flung it in at the crouching beast. + +He heard the missile strike with a soft thud that told him he had not +missed his mark, and he swung up his club in both hands. Given half a +chance, he would smash the skull of the female leopard as he had crushed +her blinded mate. . . . . One moment after another passed, and he stood +poised for the shock, tense and scowling. . . . . Not so much as a snarl +came from within. The truth flashed upon him. + +"Smothered!" he yelled. + +The others saw him dart in through the hole. A moment later two limp +grayish bodies were flung out into the open. Immediately after, Blake +reappeared, dragging the body of the mother leopard. + +"It's all right; they're dead!" cried Winthrope, and he ran forward +to look at the bodies. + +Miss Leslie followed, hardly less curious. + +"Are they all dead, Mr. Blake?" she inquired. + +"Wiped out--whole family. The old cat stayed by her kittens, and all +smothered together--lucky for us! Get busy with those bamboos, Win. I'm +going to have these skins, and the sooner we get the cub meat hung up +and curing, the better for us." + +"Leopard meat again!" rejoined Winthrope. + +"Spring leopard, young and tender! What more could you ask? Get a move +on you." + +"Can I do anything, Mr. Blake?" asked Miss Leslie. + +"Hunt a shady spot." + +"But I really mean it." + +"Well, if that's straight, you might go on along the gully, and see if +there's any place to get to the top. You could pick up sticks on the +way back, if any are left. We'll have to fumigate this tree hole before +we adopt it for a residence." + +"Will it be long before you finish with your--with the bodies?" + +"Well, now, look here, Miss Jenny; it's going to be a mess, and I +wouldn't mind hauling the carcasses clear down the gully, out of sight, +if it was to be the only time. But it's not, and you've got to get +used to it, sooner or later. So we'll start now." + +"I suppose, if I must, Mr. Blake-- Really, I wish to help." + +"Good. That's something like! Think you can learn to cook?" + +"See what I did this morning." + +Blake took the cord of cocoanut fibre which she held out to him, and +tested its strength. + +"Well, I'll be--blessed!" he said. "This _is_ something like. If +you don't look out, you'll make quite a camp-mate, Miss Jenny. But +now, trot along. This is hardly arctic weather, and our abattoir don't +include a cold-storage plant. The sooner these lambs are dressed, the +better." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PROBLEMS IN WOODCRAFT + + +It was no pleasant sight that met Miss Leslie's gaze upon her return. +The neatest of butchering can hardly be termed aesthetic; and Blake +and Winthrope lacked both skill and tools. Between the penknife and an +improvised blade of bamboo, they had flayed the two cubs and haggled +off the flesh. The ragged strips, spitted on bamboo rods, were already +searing in the fierce sun-rays. + +Miss Leslie would have slipped into the hollow of the baobab with her +armful of fagots and brush; but Blake waved a bloody knife above the body +of the mother leopard, and beckoned the girl to come nearer. + +"Hold on a minute, please," he said. "What did you find out?" + +Miss Leslie drew a few steps nearer, and forced herself to look at the +revolting sight. She found it still more difficult to withstand the +odor of the fresh blood. Winthrope was pale and nauseated. The sight of +his distress caused the girl to forget her own loathing. She drew a +deep breath, and succeeded in countering Blake's expectant look with a +half-smile. + +"How well you are getting along!" she exclaimed. + +"Didn't think you could stand it. But you've got grit all right, if +you _are_ a lady," Blake said admiringly. "Say, you'll make it yet! +Now, how about the gully?" + +"There is no place to climb up. It runs along like this, and then slopes +down. But there is a cliff at the end, as high as these walls." + +"Twenty feet," muttered Blake. "Confound the luck! It isn't that +jump-off; but how in--how are we going to get up on the cliff? There's +an everlasting lot of omelettes in those birds' nests. If only that +bloomin'--how's that, Win, me b'y?--that bloomin', blawsted baobab +was on t' other side. The wood's almost soft as punk. We could drive in +pegs, and climb up the trunk." + +"There are other trees beyond it," remarked Miss Leslie. + +"Then maybe we can shin up--" + +"I fear the branches that overhang the cliff are too slender to bear any +weight." + +"And it's too infernally high to climb up to this overhanging baobab +limb." + +"I say," ventured Winthrope, "if we had a axe, now, we might cut up +one of the trees, and make a ladder." + +"Oh, yes; and if we had a ladder, we might climb up the cliff!" + +"But, Mr. Blake, is there not some way to cut down one of the trees? The +tree itself would be a ladder if it fell in such a way as to lean against +the cliff." + +"There's only the penknife," answered Blake. "So I guess we'll +have to scratch eggs off our menu card. Spring leopard for ours! Now, if +you really want to help, you might scrape the soup bones out of your +boudoir, and fetch a lot more brush. It'll take a big fire to rid the +hole of that cat smell." + +"Will not the tree burn?" + +"No; these hollow baobabs have green bark on the inside as well as out. +Funny thing, that! We'd have to keep a fire going a long time to burn +through." + +"Yet it would burn in time?" + +"Yes; but we're not going to--" + +"Then why not burn through the trunk of one of those small trees, +instead of chopping it down?" + +"By--heck, Miss Jenny, you've got an American headpiece! Come on. +Sooner we get the thing started, the better." + +Neither Winthrope nor Miss Leslie was reluctant to leave the vicinity +of the carcasses. They followed close after Blake, around the monstrous +bole of the baobab. A little beyond it stood a group of slender trees, +whose trunks averaged eight inches thick at the base. Blake stopped at +the second one, which grew nearest to the seaward side of the cleft. + +"Here's our ladder," he said. "Get some firewood. Pound the bushes, +though, before you go poking into them. May be snakes here." + +"Snakes?--oh!" cried Miss Leslie, and she stood shuddering at the +danger she had already incurred. + +The fire had burnt itself out on a bare ledge of rock between them and +the baobab, and the clumps of dry brush left standing in this end of the +cleft were very suggestive of snakes, now that Blake had called attention +to the possibility of their presence. + +He laughed at his hesitating companions. "Go on, go on! Don't squeal +till you're bit. Most snakes hike out, if you give them half a chance. +Take a stick, each of you, and pound the bushes." + +Thus urged, both started to work. But neither ventured into the thicker +clumps. When they returned, with large armfuls of sticks and twigs, they +found that Blake had used his glass to light a handful of dry bark, +out in the sun, and was nursing it into a small fire at the base of the +tree, on the side next the cliff. + +"Now, Miss Jenny," he directed, "you're to keep this going--not too +big a fire--understand? Same time you can keep on fetching brush to +fumigate your cat hole. It needs it, all right." + +"Will not that be rather too much for Miss Leslie?" asked Winthrope. + +"Well, if she'd rather come and rub brains on the skins,--Indian tan, +you know,--or--" + +"How can you mention such things before a lady?" protested Winthrope. + +"Beg your pardon, Miss Leslie! you see, I'm not much used to ladies' +company. Anyway, you've got to see and hear about these things. And +now I'll have to get the strings for Win's bamboo bows. Come on, Win. +We've got that old tabby to peel, and a lot more besides." + +Miss Leslie's first impulse was to protest against being left alone, +when at any moment some awful venomous serpent might come darting at +her out of the brush or the crevices in the rocks. But her half-parted +lips drew firmly together, and after a moment's hesitancy, she forced +herself to the task which had been assigned her. The fire, once started, +required little attention. She could give most of her time to gathering +brush for the fumigation of the leopard den. + +She had collected quite a heap of fuel at the entrance of the hollow, +when she remembered that the place would first have to be cleared of its +accumulation of bones. A glance at her companions showed that they were +in the midst of tasks even more revolting. It was certainly disagreeable +to do such things; yet, as Mr. Blake had said, others had to do them. It +was now her time to learn. She could see him smile at her hesitation. + +Stung by the thought of his half contemptuous pity, she caught up a +forked stick, and forced herself to enter the tree-cave. The stench met +her like a blow. It nauseated and all but overpowered her. She stood +for several moments in the centre of the cavity, sick and faint. Had it +been even the previous day, she would have run out into the open air. + +Presently she grew a little more accustomed to the stench, and began to +rake over the soft dry mould of the den floor with her forked stick. +Bones!--who had ever dreamed of such a mess of bones?--big bones and +little bones and skulls; old bones, dry and almost buried; mouldy bones; +bones still half-covered with bits of flesh and gristle--the remnants +of the leopard family's last meal. + +At last all were scraped out and flung in a heap, three or four yards +away from the entrance. Miss Leslie looked at the result of her labor +with a satisfied glance, followed by a sigh of relief. Between the heat +and her unwonted exercise, she was greatly fatigued. She stepped around +to a shadier spot to rest. + +With a start, she remembered the fire. + +When she reached it there were only a few dying embers left. She gathered +dead leaves and shreds of fibrous inner bark, and knelt beside the +dull coals to blow them into life. She could not bear the thought of +having to confess her carelessness to Blake. + +The hot ashes flew up in her face and powdered her hair with their gray +dust; yet she persisted, blowing steadily until a shred of bark caught +the sparks and flared up in a tiny flame. A little more, and she had a +strong fire blazing against the tree trunk. + +She rested a short time, relaxing both mentally and physically in the +satisfying consciousness that Blake never should know how near she had +come to failing in her trust. + +Soon she became aware of a keen feeling of thirst and hunger. She rose, +piled a fresh supply of sticks on the fire, and hastened back through +the cleft towards the spring. Around the baobab she came upon Winthrope, +working in the shade of the great tree. The three leopard skins had been +stretched upon bamboo frames, and he was resignedly scraping at their +inner surfaces with a smooth-edged stone. Miss Leslie did not look too +closely at the operation. + +"Where is--he?" she asked. + +Winthrope motioned down the cleft. + +"I hope he hasn't gone far. I'm half famished. Aren't you?" + +"Really, Miss Genevieve, it is odd, you know. Not an hour since, the +very thought of food--" + +"And now you're as hungry as I am. Oh, I do wish he had not gone off +just at the wrong time!" + +"He went to take a dip in the sea. You know, he got so messed up over +the nastiest part of the work, which I positively refused to do--" + +"What's that beyond the bamboos?--There's something alive!" + +"Pray, don't be alarmed. It is--er--it's all right, Miss Genevieve, I +assure you." + +"But what is it? Such queer noises, and I see something alive!" + +"Only the vultures, if you must know. Nothing else, I assure you." + +"Oh!" + +"It is all out of sight from the spring. You are not to go around the +bamboos until the--that is, not to-day." + +"Did Mr. Blake say that?" + +"Why, yes--to be sure. He also said to tell you that the cutlets were +on the top shelf." + +"You mean --?" + +"His way of ordering you to cook our dinner. Really, Miss Genevieve, +I should be pleased to take your place, but I have been told to keep +to this. It is hard to take orders from a low fellow,--very hard for +a gentleman, you know." + +Miss Leslie gazed at her shapely hands. Three days since she could not +have conceived of their being so rough and scratched and dirty. Yet her +disgust at their condition was not entirely unqualified. + +"At least I have something to show for them," she murmured. + +"I beg pardon," said Winthrope. + +"Just look at my hands--like a servant's! And yet I am not nearly so +ashamed of them as I would have fancied. It is very amusing, but do you +know, I actually feel proud that I have done something--something useful, +I mean." + +"Useful?--I call it shocking, Miss Genevieve. It is simply vile that +people of our breeding should be compelled to do such menial work. They +write no end of romances about castaways; but I fail to see the romance +in scraping skins Indian fashion, as this fellow Blake calls it." + +"I suppose, though, we should remember how much Mr. Blake is doing for +us, and should try to make the best of the situation." + +"It has no best. It is all a beastly muddle," complained Winthrope, +and he resumed his nervous scraping at the big leopard skin. + +The girl studied his face for a moment, and turned away. She had been +trying so hard to forget. + +He heard her leave, and called after, without looking up: "Please +remember. He said to cook some meat." + +She did not answer. Having satisfied her thirst at the spring, she took +one of the bamboo rods, with its haggled blackening pieces of flesh, and +returned to the fire. After some little experimenting, she contrived +a way to support the rod beside the fire so that all the meat would +roast without burning. + +At first, keen as was her hunger, she turned with disgust from the +flabby sun-seared flesh; but as it began to roast, the odor restored her +appetite to full vigor. Her mouth fairly watered. It seemed as though +Winthrope and Blake would never come. She heard their voices, and took +the bamboo spit from the fire for the meat to cool. Still they failed to +appear, and unable to wait longer, she began to eat. The cub meat proved +far more tender than that of the old leopard. She had helped herself to +the second piece before the two men appeared. + +"Hold on, Miss Jenny; fair play!" sang out Blake. "You've set to +without tooting the dinner-horn. I don't blame you, though. That smells +mighty good." + +Both men caught at the hot meat with eagerness, and Winthrope promptly +forgot all else in the animal pleasure of satisfying his hunger. Blake, +though no less hungry, only waited to fill his mouth before investigating +the condition of the prospective tree ladder. The result of the attempt +to burn the trunk did not seem encouraging to the others, and Miss +Leslie looked away, that her face might not betray her, should he have +an inkling of her neglect. She was relieved by the cheerfulness of his +tone. + +"Slow work, this fire business--eh? Guess, though, it'll go faster this +afternoon. The green wood is killed and is getting dried out. Anyway, +we've got to keep at it till the tree goes over. This spring leopard +won't last long at the present rate of consumption, and we'll need +the eggs to keep us going till we get the hang of our bows." + +"What is that smoke back there?" interrupted Miss Leslie. "Can it be +that the fire down the cleft has sprung up again?" + +"No; it's your fumigation. You had plenty of brush on hand, so I heaved +it into the hole, and touched it off. While it's burning out, you can +put in time gathering grass and leaves for a bed." + +"Would you and Mr. Winthrope mind breaking off some bamboos for me?" + +"What for?" + +Miss Leslie colored and hesitated. "I--I should like to divide off a +corner of the place with a wall or screen." + +Winthrope tried to catch Blake's eye; but the American was gazing at +Miss Leslie's embarrassed face with a puzzled look. Her meaning dawned +upon him, and he hastened to reply. + +"All right, Miss Jenny. You can build your wall to suit yourself. But +there'll be no hurry over it. Until the rains begin, Win and I'll +sleep out in the open. We'll have to take turn about on watch at night, +anyway. If we don't keep up a fire, some other spotted kitty will be +sure to come nosing up the gully." + +"There must also be lions in the vicinity," added Winthrope. + +Miss Leslie said nothing until after the last pieces of meat had been +handed around, and Blake sprang up to resume work. + +"Mr. Blake," she called, in a low tone; "one moment, please. Would it +save much bother if a door was made, and you and Mr. Winthrope should +sleep inside?" + +"We'll see about that later," replied Blake, carelessly. + +The girl bit her lip, and the tears started to her eyes. Even Winthrope +had started off without expressing his appreciation. Yet he at least +should have realized how much it had cost her to make such an offer. + +By evening she had her tree-cave--house, she preferred to name it to +herself--in a habitable condition. When the purifying fire had burnt +itself out, leaving the place free from all odors other than the +wholesome smell of wood smoke, she had asked Blake how she could rake out +the ashes. His advice was to wet them down where they lay. + +This was easier said than done. Fortunately, the spring was only a few +yards distant, and after many trips, with her palm-leaf hat for bowl, +the girl carried enough water to sprinkle all the powdery ashes. Over +them she strewed the leaves and grass which she had gathered while the +fire was burning. The driest of the grass, arranged in a far corner, +promised a more comfortable bed than had been her lot for the last three +nights. + +During this work she had been careful not to forget the fire at the +tree. Yet when, near sundown, she called the others to the third meal +of leopard meat, Blake grumbled at the tree for being what he termed +such a confounded tough proposition. + +"Good thing there's lots of wood here, Win," he added. "We'll keep +this fire going till the blamed thing topples over, if it takes a year." + +"Oh, but you surely will not stay so far from the baobab to-night!" +exclaimed Miss Leslie. + +"Hold hard!" soothed Blake. "You've no license to get the jumps yet +a while. We'll have another fire by the baobab. So you needn't worry." + +A few minutes later they went back to the baobab, and Winthrope began +helping Miss Leslie to construct a bamboo screen in the narrow entrance +of the tree-cave, while Blake built the second fire. + +As Winthrope was unable to tell time by the stars, Blake took the first +watch. At sunset, following the engineer's advice, Winthrope lay down +with his feet to the small watch-fire, and was asleep before twilight +had deepened into night. Fagged out by the mental and bodily stress of +the day, he slept so soundly that it seemed to him he had hardly lost +consciousness when he was roused by a rough hand on his forehead. + +"What is it?" he mumbled. + +"'Bout one o'clock," said Blake. "Wake up! I ran overtime, 'cause +the morning watch is the toughest. But I can't keep 'wake any longer." + +"I say, this is a beastly bore," remarked Winthrope, sitting up. + +"Um-m," grunted Blake, who was already on his back. + +Winthrope rubbed his eyes, rose wearily, and drew a blazing stick from +the fire. With this upraised as a torch, he peered around into the +darkness, and advanced towards the spring. + +When, having satisfied his thirst, he returned somewhat hurriedly to the +fire, he was startled by the sight of a pale face gazing at him from +between the leaves of the bamboo screen. + +"My dear Miss Genevieve, what is the matter?" he exclaimed. + +"Hush! Is he asleep?" + +"Like a top." + +"Thank Heaven! . . . . Good-night." + +"Good-night--er--I say, Miss Genevieve--" + +But the girl disappeared, and Winthrope, after a glance at Blake's +placid face, hurried along the cleft to stack the other fire. When he +returned he noticed two bamboo rods which Blake had begun to shape into +bow staves. He looked them over, with a sneer at Blake's seemingly +unskilful workmanship; but he made no attempt to finish the bows. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A DESPOILED WARDROBE + + +Soon after sunrise Miss Leslie was awakened by the snap and dull crash of +a falling tree. She made a hasty toilet, and ran out around the baobab. +The burned tree, eaten half through by the fire, had been pushed over +against the cliff by Blake and Winthrope. Both had already climbed up, +and now stood on the edge of the cliff. + +"Hello, Miss Jenny!" shouted Blake. "We've got here at last. Want +to come up?" + +"Not now, thank you." + +"It's easy enough. But you're right. Try your hand again at the +cutlets, won't you? While they're frying, we'll get some eggs for +dessert How does that strike you?" + +"We have no way to cook them." + +"Roast 'em in the ashes. So long!" + +Miss Leslie cooked breakfast over the watch-fire, for the other had +been scattered and stamped out by the men when the tree fell. They came +back in good time, walking carefully, that they might not break the +eggs with which their pockets bulged. Between them, they had brought +a round dozen and a half. Blake promptly began stowing all in the hot +ashes, while Winthrope related their little adventure with unwonted +enthusiasm. + +"You should have come with us, Miss Genevieve," he began. "This time +of day it is glorious on the cliff top. Though the rock is bare, there +is a fine view--" + +"Fine view of grub near the end," interpolated Blake. + +"Ah, yes; the birds--you must take a look at them, Miss Genevieve! The +sea end of the cliff is alive with them--hundreds and thousands, all +huddled together and fighting for room. They are a sight, I assure you! +They're plucky, too. It was well we took sticks with us. As it was, +one of the gannets--boobies, Blake calls them--caught me a nasty nip +when I went to lift her off the nest." + +"Best way is to kick them off," explained Blake. "But the point +is that we've hopped over the starvation stile. Understand? The +whole blessed cliff end is an omelette waiting for our pan. Pass the +leopardettes, Miss Jenny." + +When the last bit of meat had disappeared, Blake raked the eggs from the +ashes, and began to crack them, solemnly sniffing at each before he laid +it on its leaf platter. Some were a trifle "high." None, however, were +thrown away. + +When it was all over, Winthrope contemplated the scattered shells with +a satisfied air. + +"Do you know," he remarked, "this is the first time I have +felt--er--replenished since we found those cocoanuts." + +"How about one of 'em now to top off on?" questioned Blake. + +Miss Leslie sighed. "Why did you speak of them! I am still hungry enough +to eat more eggs--a dozen--that is, if we had a little salt and butter." + +"And a silver cup and napkins!" added Blake. "About the salt, though, +we'll have to get some before long, and some kind of vegetable food. It +won't do to keep up this whole meat menu." + +"If only those little bamboo sprouts were as good as they look--like a +kind of asparagus!" murmured Miss Leslie. + +"I've heard that the Chinese eat them," said Winthrope. + +"They eat rats, too," commented Blake. + +"We might at least try them," persisted Miss Leslie. + +"How? Raw?" + +"I have heard papa tell of roasting corn when he was a boy." + +"That's so; and roasting-ears are better than boiled. Win, I guess +we'll have a sample of bamboo asparagus _à la_ Les-lee!" + +Winthrope took the penknife, and fetched a handful of young sprouts from +the bamboo thicket. They were heated over the coals on a grill of green +branches, and devoured half raw. + +"Say," mumbled Blake, as he ruminated on the last shoot, "we're +getting on some for this smell hole of a coast: house and chicken ranch, +and vegetables in our front yard-- We've got old Bobbie Crusoe beat, +hands down, on the start-off, and he with his shipful of stuff for +handicap!" + +"Then you believe that the situation looks more hopeful, Mr. Blake?" + +"Well, we've at least got an extension on our note for a week or two. +But I'm not going to coddle you with a lot of lies, Miss Jenny. There's +the fever coming, sure as fate. I may stave it off a while; you and Win, +ten to one, will be down in a few days--and not a smell of quinine +in our commissary. Then there'll be dysentery and snakes and wild +beasts--No; we're not out of the woods yet, not by a--considerable." + +"By Jove, Blake," muttered Winthrope, "I must say, you're not very +encouraging." + +"Didn't say I was trying to be." + +"But, Mr. Blake, I am sure papa will offer a large reward when the +steamer is reported as lost. There will be ships searching for us--" + +"We're not in the British Channel, and I'll bet what few boats do +coast along here don't nose about much among these coral reefs." + +"I fancy it would do no harm to erect a signal," said Winthrope. + +"Only thing that would make a show is Miss Leslie's skirt," replied +Blake. + +"There is the big leopard skin," persisted Winthrope. To his surprise +the engineer took the suggestion under serious consideration. + +"Well, I don't know," he said. "If we had a water background, now. +But against the rock and trees,--no; what we want is white. I'll tell +you--when Miss Jenny sets to and makes herself a dress of that skin, +I'll fly her skirt to the zephyrs." + +"Mr. Blake! I really think that is cruel of you!" + +"Oh, come now; that's not fair! I wouldn't have said a word, but you +said you wanted to help." + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Blake. I--I did not quite understand you. I +really do want to help--to do my share--" + +"Now you're talking! You see, it's not only a question of the signal, +but of clothes. We've got to figure anyway on needing new ones before +long. Look at my pants and vest, and Win's too. Inside a month we'll +all be in hide--or in hiding. That's a joke, Win, me b'y; see?" + +"But in the meantime--" began Miss Leslie. + +"In the meantime we're like to miss a chance or two of being picked +up, just because we've failed to stick out a signal that'd catch the +eye twice as far off as any other color than scarlet. Do you suppose I +worked my way up from axeman to engineer, and didn't learn anything +about flags?" + +"But it is all really too absurd! I do not know the first thing about +sewing, and I have neither thread nor needle." + +"It's up to you, though, if you want to help. My sisters sewed mighty +soon after they learned to toddle. 'Bout time you learned-- There, now; +I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You've made a fair stagger at +cooking, and I bet you win out on the dressmaking. For needle you can use +one of these long slim thorns--poke a hole, and then slip the thread +through, like a shoemaker." + +"Ah, yes; but the thread?" put in Winthrope. + +"The cocoanut fibre would hardly do," said Miss Leslie, forgetting to +dry her eyes. + +"No. We could get fairly good fibres out of the palm leaves; but catgut +will be a whole lot better. I'll slit up a lot for you, fine enough +to sew with. And now, let's get down to tacks. No offence--but did +either of you ever learn to do anything useful in all your blessed +little lives?" + +"Why, Mr. Blake, of course I--" + +"Of course what?" demanded Blake, as Miss Leslie hesitated. "We know +all about your cooking and sewing. What else?" + +"I--I see what you meant. I fear that nothing of what I learned would +be of service now." + +"Boarding-school rot, eh? And you, Winthrope?" + +"If you would kindly name over what you have in mind." + +"Um!" grunted Blake. "Well, it's first of all a question of a +practical--practical, mind you,--knowledge of metallurgy, ceramics, and +how to stick an arrow through a beef roast." + +"I--ah--I believe I intimated that I have some knowledge of archery. But +I doubt--" + +"Cut it out! You'll have enough else to do. Get busy over those bows +and arrows, and don't quit till you've got them in shape. Leave my bow +good and stiff. I can pull like a mule can kick. Well, Miss Jenny; what +is it?" + +"Is not--has not ceramics something to do with burning china?" + +"Sure!--china, pottery, and all that. Know anything about it?" + +"Why, I have a friend who amuses herself by painting china, and I know +it has to be burned." + +"And that's all!" grunted Blake. "Well, let me tell you. When I was +a little kid I used to work in a pottery. All I can remember is that +they'd take clay, shape it into a pot, dry it, and bake the thing in a +kiln. We've got to work the same game somehow. This kind of eating will +mean dysentery in short order. So there's going to be a bean-pot for +our stews, or Tom Blake'll know the reason why. Nurse up that ankle of +yours, Win. We'll trek it to-morrow--cocoanuts, and maybe something +else. There's clay on the far bank of the river, and across from it I +saw a streak that looked like brown hæmatite." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST + + +The next four days slipped by almost unheeded. Blake saw to it that +not only himself but his companions had work to occupy every hour of +daylight. When not engaged in cooking and fuel gathering, Miss Leslie +was learning by painful experience the rudiments of dressmaking. + +At the start she had all but ruined the beautiful skin of the mother +leopard before Blake chanced to see her and took over the task of cutting +it into shape for a skirt. But when it came to making a waist of the +cub fur, he said that she would have to puzzle out the pattern from +her other one. Between cooking three meals a day over an open fire, +gathering several armfuls of wood, and making a dress with penknife, +thorn, and catgut, the girl had little time to think of other matters +than her work. + +Winthrope had been gazetted as hunter in ordinary. His task was to +keep Miss Leslie supplied with fresh eggs and each day to kill as many +of the boobies and cormorants as he could skin and split for drying. +Blake had changed his mind about taking him when he went for cocoanuts. +Instead, he had gone alone on several trips, bringing three or four loads +of nuts, then a little salt from the seashore, dirty but very welcome, +and last of all a great lump of clay, wrapped in palm fronds. + +With this clay he at once began experiments in the art of pottery. Having +mixed and beaten a small quantity, he moulded it into little cups and +bowls, and tried burning them over night in the watch-fire. A few came +out without crack or flaw. Vastly elated by this success, he fashioned +larger vessels from his clay, and within the week could brag of two pots +suitable for cooking stews, and four large nondescript pieces which he +called plates. What was more, all had a fairly good sand glaze, for he +had been quick to observe a glaze on the bottoms of the first pots, and +had reasoned out that it was due to the sand which had adhered while +they stood drying in the sun. + +He next turned his attention to metallurgy. The first move was to search +the river bank for the brown bog iron ore which he believed he had seen +from the farther side. After a dangerous and exhausting day's work in +the mire and jungle, he came back with nothing more to show for his pains +than an armful of creepers. Late in the afternoon, he had located the +hæmatite, only to find it lying in a streak so thin that he could not +hope to collect enough for practical purposes. + +"Lucky we've got something to fall back on," he added, after telling +of his failure. "Pass over those keys of yours, Win. Good! Now untangle +those creepers. To-night we'll take turns knotting them up into some +sort of a rope-ladder. I'm getting mighty weary of hoofing it all around +the point every time I trot to the river. After this I'll go down +the cliff at that end of the gully." + +Winthrope, who had become very irritable and depressed during the last +two days, turned on his heel, with the look of a fretful child. + +To cover this undiplomatic rudeness, Miss Leslie spoke somewhat +hurriedly. "But why should you return again to the river, Mr. Blake? +I'm sure you are risking the fever; and there must be savage beasts in +the jungle." + +"That's my business," growled Blake. He paused a moment, and added, +rather less ungraciously, "Well, if you care, it's this way--I'm +going to keep on looking for ore. Give me a little iron ore, and we'll +mighty soon have a lot of steel knives and arrow-heads that'll amount to +something. How're we going to bag anything worth while with bamboo +tips on our arrows? Those boar tusks are a fizzle." + +"So you will continue to risk your life for us? I think that is very +brave and generous, Mr. Blake!" + +"How's that?" demanded Blake, not a little puzzled. He was fully +conscious of the risk; but this was the first intimation he had received +or conceived that his motives were other than selfish--"Um-m! So that's +the ticket. Getting generous, eh?" + +"Not getting--you _are_ generous! When I think of all you have done for +us! Had it not been for you, I am sure we should have died that first day +ashore." + +"Well, don't blame me. I couldn't have let a dog die that way; and +then, a fellow needs a Man Friday for this sort of thing. As for you, I +haven't always had the luck to be favored with ladies' company." + +"Thank you, Mr. Blake. I quite appreciate the compliment. But now, I +must put on supper." + +Blake followed her graceful movements with an intentness which, in +turn, drew Winthrope's attention to himself. The Englishman smiled +in a disagreeable manner, and resumed his work on the bows, with the +look of one mentally preoccupied. After supper he found occasion to +spend some little time among the bamboos. + +When at sunset Miss Leslie withdrew into the baobab, Winthrope somewhat +officiously insisted upon helping her set up her screen in the entrance. +As he did so, he took the opportunity to hand her a bamboo knife, and +to draw her attention to several double-pointed bamboo stakes which he +had hidden under the litter. + +"What is it?" she asked, troubled by his furtive glance back at Blake. + +"Merely precaution, you know," he whispered. "The ground in there is +quite soft. It will be no trouble, I fancy, to put up the stakes, with +their points inclined towards the entrance." + +"But why--" + +"Not so loud, Miss Genevieve! It struck me that if any one should seek +to enter in the night, he would find these stakes deucedly unpleasant. +Be careful how you handle them. As you see, the sharper points, which +are to be set uppermost, run off into a razor edge. Put them up now, +before it grows too dark. You know how ninepins are set--that shape. +Good-night! You see, with these to guard the entrance, you need not be +afraid to go to sleep at once." + +"Thank you," she whispered, and began to thrust the stakes into the +ground as he had directed. + +He had not been mistaken. The vague doubts and fears which she already +entertained would have kept her awake throughout the night, but thanks +to the sense of security afforded by the sword-bayonets of her silent +little sentries, the girl was soon able to calm herself, and was fast +asleep long before Blake wakened Winthrope. + +Immediately after breakfast, Blake--who had spent his watch in grinding +the edges from a stone and experimenting with split and bent twigs--put +Winthrope's keys in the fire, and began an attempt to shape them into +a knife-blade. To heat the steel to the required temperature, he used +a bamboo blowpipe, with his lungs for bellows. + +Winthrope turned away with an indifferent bearing; but Miss Leslie found +herself compelled to stop and admire his dexterous use of his rude tools. + +One after another, the keys were welded together, end to end, in a narrow +ribbon of steel. The thinnest one, however, was not fastened to the tip +until it had been used to burn a groove in the edge of a rib, selected +from among the bones which Miss Leslie had thrown out of the baobab. +The last key was then fastened to the others; the blade ground sharp, +tempered, and inserted in the groove. Finally, pieces of the key-ring +were fitted in bands around the bone, through notches cut in the ends of +the steel blade. The result was a bone-handled, bone-backed knife, with a +narrow cutting edge of fine steel. + +Long before it was finished Miss Leslie had been forced away by the +requirements of her own work. In fact, Blake did not complete his task +until late in the afternoon. At the end, he spent more than an hour +grinding the handle into shape. When he came to show the completed knife +to Miss Leslie, he was fairly aglow with justifiable pride. + +"How's that for an Eskimo job?" he demanded. "Bunch of keys and a +bone, eh?" + +"You are certainly very ingenious, Mr. Blake!" + +"Nixy! There's little of the inventor in my top piece--only some hustle +and a good memory. I was up in Alaska, you know. Saw a sight of Eskimo +work." + +"Still, it is very skilfully done." + +"That may be--Look out for the edge! It'd do to shave. No more bamboo +splinters for me--dull when you hit a piece of bone. I'm ready now to +skin a rhinoceros." + +"If you can catch one!" + +"Guess we could find enough of them around here, all right. But we'll +start in on some of Win's sheep and cattle." + +"Oh, do! One grows tired of eggs, and all these sea-birds are so tough +and fishy, no matter how I cook them." + +"We'll sneak down to the pool, and make a try with the bows this +evening. I'll give odds, though, that we draw a blank. Win's got the +aim, but no drive; I've got the drive, but no aim. Even if I hit an +antelope, I don't think a bamboo-pointed arrow would bother him much." + +"Don't the savages kill game without iron weapons?" + +"Sure; but a lot have flint points, and a lot of others use poison. I +know that the Apaches and some of those other Southern Indians used to +fix their arrows with rattlesnake poison." + +"How horrible!" + +"Well, that depends on how you look at it. I guess they thought guns +more horrible when they tackled the whites and got the daylight let +through 'em. At any rate, they swapped arrows for rifles mighty quick, +and any one who knows Apaches will tell you it wasn't because they +thought bullets would do less damage." + +"Yet the thought of poison--" + +"Yes; but the thought of self-preservation! Sooner than starve, I'd +poison every animal in Africa--and so would you." + +"I--I--You put it in such a horrible way. One must consider others, +animals as well as people; and yet--" + +"Survival of the fittest. I've read some things, and I'm no fool, +if I do say it myself. For instance, I'm the boss here, because I'm the +fittest of our crowd in this environment; but back in what's called +civilized parts, where the law lets a few shrewd fellows monopolize the +means of production, a man like your father--" + +"Mr. Blake, it is not my fault if papa's position in the business +world--" + +"Nor his, either--it's the cussed system! No; that's all right, Miss +Jenny. I was only illustrating. Now, I take it, both you and Win would +like to get rid of a boss like me, if you could get rid of Africa at the +same time. As it is, though, I guess you'd rather have me for boss, +and live, than be left all by your lonesomes, to starve." + +"I--I'm sure there is no question of your leadership, Mr. Blake. We +have both tried our best to do what you have asked of us." + +"_You_ have, at least. But I know. If a ship should come to-morrow, +it'd be Blake to the back seat. 'Papa, give this--er--person a check +for his services, while I chase off with Winnie, to get my look-in on +'Is Ri-yal 'Igh-ness.'" + +Miss Leslie flushed crimson-- "I'm sure, Mr. Blake--" + +"Oh, don't let that worry you, Miss Jenny. It don't me. I couldn't +be sore with you if I tried. Just the same, I know what it'll be like. +I've rubbed elbows enough with snobs and big bugs to know what kind of +consideration they give one of the mahsses--unless one of the mahsses +has the drop on them. Hello, Win! What's kept you so late?" + +"None of your business!" snapped Winthrope. + +Miss Leslie glanced at him, even more puzzled and startled by this +outbreak than she had been by Blake's strange talk. But if Blake was +angered, he did not show it. + +"Say, Win," he remarked gravely, "I was going to take you down to the +pool after supper, on a try with the bows. But I guess you'd better stay +close by the fire." + +"Yes; it is time you gave a little consideration to those who deserve +it," rejoined Winthrope, with a peevishness of tone and manner which +surprised Miss Leslie. "I tell you, I'm tired of being treated like a +dog." + +"All right, all right, old man. Just draw up your chair, and get all +the hot broth aboard you can stow," answered Blake, soothingly. + +Winthrope sat down; but throughout the meal, he continued to complain +over trifles with the peevishness of a spoiled child, until Miss Leslie +blushed for him. Greatly to her astonishment, Blake endured the nagging +without a sign of irritation, and in the end took his bow and arrows and +went off down the cleft, with no more than a quiet reminder to Winthrope +that he should keep near the fire. + +When, shortly after dark, the engineer came groping his way back up the +gorge, he was by no means so calm. Out of six shots, he had hit one +antelope in the neck and another in the haunch; yet both animals had +made off all the swifter for their wounds. + +The noise of his approach awakened Winthrope, who turned over, and began +to complain in a whining falsetto. Miss Leslie, who was peering out +through the bars of her screen, looked to see Blake kick the prostrate +man. His frown showed only too clearly that he was in a savage temper. To +her astonishment, he spoke in a soothing tone until Winthrope again +fell asleep. Then he quietly set about erecting a canopy of bamboos +over the sleeper. + +Just why he should build this was a puzzle to the girl. But when she +caught a glimpse of Blake's altered expression, she drew a deep breath +of relief, and picked her way around the edge of her bamboo stakes, to +lie down without a trace of the fear which had been haunting her. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE MARK OF THE BEAST + + +Morning found Winthrope more irritable and peevish than ever. Though +he had not been called on watch by Blake until long after midnight, he +had soon fallen asleep at his post and permitted the fire to die out. +Shortly before dawn, Blake was roused by a pack of jackals, snarling +and quarrelling over the half-dried seafowl. To charge upon the thieves +and put them to flight with a few blows of his club took but a moment. +Yet daylight showed more than half the drying frames empty. + +Blake was staring glumly at them, with his broad back to Winthrope, when +Miss Leslie appeared. The sudden cessation of Winthrope's complaints +brought his companion around on the instant. The girl stood before him, +clad from neck to foot in her leopard-skin dress. + +"Well, I'll be--dashed!" he exclaimed, and he stood staring at her +open-mouthed. + +"I fear it will be warm. Do you think it becoming?" she asked, +flushing, and turning as though to show the fit of the costume. + +"Do I?" he echoed. "Miss Jenny, you're a peach!" + +"Thank you," she said. "And here is the skirt. I have ripped it open. +You see, it will make a fine flag." + +"If it's put up. Seems a pity, though, to do that, when we're getting +on so fine. What do you say to leaving it down, and starting a little +colony of our own?" + +Miss Leslie raised the skirt in her outstretched hands. Behind it her +face became white as the cloth. + +"Well?" demanded Blake soberly, though his eyes were twinkling. + +"You forget the fever," she retorted mockingly, and Blake failed to +catch the quaver beneath the light remark. + +"Say, you've got me there!" he admitted. "Just pass over your flag, +and scrape up some grub. I'll be breaking out a big bamboo. There are +plenty of holes and loose stones on the cliff. We'll have the signal +up before noon." + +Miss Leslie murmured her thanks, and immediately set about the +preparation of breakfast. + +When Blake had the bamboo ready, with one edge of the broad piece of +white duck lashed to it with catgut as high up as the tapering staff +would bear, he called upon Winthrope to accompany him. + +"You can go, too, Miss Jenny," he added. "You haven't been on the +cliff yet, and you ought to celebrate the occasion." + +"No, thank you," replied the girl. "I'm still unprepared to climb +precipices, even though my costume is that of a savage." + +"Savage? Great Scott! that leopard dress would win out against any set +of Russian furs a-going, and I've heard they're considered all kinds +of dog. Come on. I can swing you into the branches, and it's easy from +there up." + +"You will excuse me, please." + +"Yes, you can go alone," interposed Winthrope. "I am indisposed this +morning, and, what is more, I have had enough of your dictation." + +"You have, have you?" growled Blake, his patience suddenly come to an +end. "Well, let me tell you, Miss Leslie is a lady, and if she don't +want to go, that settles it. But as for you, you'll go, if I have to +kick you every step." + +Winthrope cringed back, and broke into a childish whine. "Don't--don't +do it, Blake--Oh, I say, Miss Genevieve, how can you stand by and see +him abuse me like this?" + +Blake was grinning as he turned to Miss Leslie. Her face was flushed and +downcast with humiliation for her friend. It seemed incredible that a man +of his breeding should betray such weakness. A quick change came over +Blake's face. + +"Look here," he muttered, "I guess I'm enough of a sport to know +something about fair play. Win's coming down with the fever, and's +no more to blame for doing the baby act than he'll be when he gets the +delirium, and gabbles." + +"I will thank you to attend to your own affairs," said Winthrope. + +"You're entirely welcome. It's what I'm doing.-- Do you understand, +Miss Jenny?" + +"Indeed, yes; and I wish to thank you. I have noticed how patient you +have been--" + +"Pardon me, Miss Leslie," rasped Winthrope. "Can you not see that for +a fellow of this class to talk of fair play and patience is the height +of impertinence? In England, now, such insufferable impudence--" + +"That'll do," broke in Blake. "It's time for us to trot along." + +"But, Mr. Blake, if he is ill--" + +"Just the reason why he should keep moving. No more of your gab, Win! +Give your jaw a lay-off, and try wiggling your legs instead." + +Winthrope turned away, crimson with indignation. Blake paused only for +a parting word with Miss Leslie. "If you want something to do, Miss +Jenny, try making yourself a pair of moccasins out of the scraps of skin. +You can't stay in this gully all the time. You've got to tramp around +some, and those slippers must be about done for." + +"They are still serviceable. Yet if you think--" + +"You'll need good tough moccasins soon enough. Singe off the hair, and +make soles of the thicker pieces. If you do a fair job, maybe I'll +employ you as my cobbler, soon as I get the hide off one of those +skittish antelope." + +Miss Leslie nodded and smiled in response to his jesting tone. But as +he swung away after Winthrope, she stood for some time wondering at +herself. A few days since she knew she would have taken Blake's remark +as an insult. Now she was puzzled to find herself rather pleased that +he should so note her ability to be of service. + +When she roused herself, and began singeing the hair from the odds and +ends of leopard skin, she discovered a new sensation to add to her +list of unpleasant experiences. But she did not pause until the last +patch of hair crisped close to the half-cured surface of the hide. +Fetching the penknife and her thorn and catgut from the baobab, she +gathered the pieces of skin together, and walked along the cleft to +the ladder-tree. There had been time enough for Blake and Winthrope +to set up the signal, and she was curious to see how it looked. + +She paused at the foot of the tree, and gazed up to where the withered +crown lay crushed against the edge of the cliff. The height of the rocky +wall made her hesitate; yet the men, in passing up and down, had so +cleared away the twigs and leaves and broken the branches on the upper +side of the trunk, that it offered a means of ascent far from difficult +even for a young lady. + +The one difficulty was to reach the lower branches. She could hardly +touch them with her finger-tips. But her barbaric costume must have +inspired her. She listened for a moment, and hearing no sound to indicate +the return of the men, clasped the upper side of the trunk with her hands +and knees, and made an energetic attempt to climb. The posture was +far from dignified, but the girl's eyes sparkled with satisfaction +as she found herself slowly mounting. + +When, flushed and breathless, she gained a foothold among the branches, +she looked down at the ground, and permitted herself a merry little +giggle such as she had not indulged in since leaving boarding-school. +She had actually climbed a tree! She would show Mr. Blake that she was +not so helpless as he fancied. + +At the thought, she clambered on up, finding that the branches made +convenient steps. She did not look back, and the screen of tree-tops +beneath saved her from any sense of giddiness. As her head came above +the level of the cliff, she peered through the foliage, and saw the +signal-flag far over near the end of the headland. The big piece of white +duck stood out bravely against the blue sky, all the more conspicuous +for the flocks of frightened seafowl which wheeled above and around it. + +Surprised that she did not see the men, Miss Leslie started to draw +herself up over the cliff edge. She heard Winthrope's voice a few yards +away on her left. A sudden realization that the Englishman might consider +her exploit ill-bred caused her to sink back out of sight. + +She was hesitating whether to descend or to climb on up, when +Winthrope's peevish whine was cut short by a loud and angry retort +from Blake. Every word came to the girl's ears with the force of a blow. + +"You do, do you? Well, I'd like to know where in hell you come in. +She's not your sister, nor your mother, nor your aunt, and if she's +your sweetheart, you've both been damned close-mouthed over it." + +There was an irritable, rasping murmur from Winthrope, and again came +Blake's loud retort. + +"Look here, young man, don't you forget you called me a cad once +before. I can stand a good deal from a sick man; but I'll give it to you +straight, you'd better cut that out. Call me a brute or a savage, if +that'll let off your steam; but, understand, I'm none of your English +kinds." + +Again Winthrope spoke, this time in a fretful whine. + +Blake replied with less anger: "That's so; and I'm going to show +you that I'm the real thing when it comes to being a sport. Give you +my word, I'll make no move till you're through the fever and on your +legs again. What I'll do then depends on my own sweet will, and don't +you forget it. I'm not after her fortune. It's the lady herself that +takes my fancy. Remember what I said to you when you called me a cad +the other time. You had your turn aboard ship. Now I can do as I please; +and that's what I'm going to do, if I have to kick you over the cliff +end first, to shut off your pesky interference." + +The girl crouched back into the withered foliage, dazed with terror. +Again she heard Blake speak. He had dropped into a bitter sneer. + +"No chance? It's no nerve, you mean. You could brain me, easy enough, +any night--just walk up with a club when I'm asleep. Trouble is, +you're like most other under dogs--'fraid that if you licked your +boss, there'd be no soup bones. So I guess I'm slated to stay boss of +this colony--grand Poo Bah and Mikado, all in one. Understand? You +mind your own business, and don't go to interfering with me any more! +. . . . Now, if you've stared enough at the lady's skirt--" + +The threat of discovery stung the girl to instant action. With almost +frantic haste, she scrambled down to the lower branches, and sprang to +the ground. She had never ventured such a leap even in childhood. She +struck lightly but without proper balance, and pitched over sideways. +Her hands chanced to alight upon the remnants of leopard skin. Great +as was her fear, she stopped to gather all together in the edge of her +skirt before darting up the cleft. + +At the baobab she turned and gazed back along the cliff edge. Before +she had time to draw a second breath, she caught a glimpse of Blake's +palm-leaf hat, near the crown of the ladder tree. + +"O-o-h!--he didn't see me!" she murmured. Her frantic strength +vanished, and a deathly sickness came upon her. She felt herself going, +and sought to kneel to ease the fall. + +She was roused from the swoon by Blake's resonant shout: "Hey, Miss +Jenny! where are you? We've got your laundry on the pole in fine shape!" + +The girl's flaccid limbs grew tense, and her body quivered with a +shudder of dread and loathing. Yet she set her little white teeth, and +forced herself to rise and go out to face the men. Both met her look +with a blank stare of consternation. + +"What is it, Miss Genevieve?" cried Winthrope. "You're white as +chalk!" + +"It's the fever!" growled Blake. "She's in the cold stage. Get a +pot on. We'll--" + +"No, no; it's not that! It's only--I've been frightened!" + +"Frightened?" + +"By a--a dreadful beast!" + +"Beast!" repeated Blake, and his pale eyes flashed as he sprang across +to where his bow and arrows and his club leaned against the baobab. +"I'll have no beasts nosing around my dooryard! Must be that skulking +lion I heard last night. I'll show him!" He caught up his weapons +and stalked off down the cleft. + +"By Jove!" exclaimed Winthrope; "the man really must be mad. Call him +back, Miss Genevieve. If anything should happen to him--" + +"If only there might!" gasped the girl. + +"Why, what do you mean?" + +She burst into a hysterical laugh. "Oh! oh! it's such a joke--such a +joke! At least he's not a hyena--oh, no; a brave beast! Hear him shout! +And he actually thinks it's a lion! But it isn't--it's himself! Oh, +dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?" + +"Miss Genevieve, what do you mean? Be calm, pray, be calm!" + +"Calm!--when I heard what he said? Yes; I heard every word! In the top +of the tree--" + +"In the tree? Heavens! Miss--er--Miss Genevieve!" stammered Winthrope, +his face paling. "Did you--did you hear all?" + +"Everything--everything he said! What shall I do? I am so frightened! +What shall I do?" + +"Everything _he_ said?" echoed Winthrope. + +"You spoke too low for me to hear; but I'm sure you faced him like a +gentleman--I must believe it of you--" + +Winthrope drew in a deep breath. "Ah, yes; I did, Miss Genevieve--I +assure you. The beast! Yet you see the plight I am in. It is a nasty +muddle--indeed it is! But what can I do? He is strong as a gorilla. +Really, there is only one way--no doubt you heard him taunt me over +it. I assure you I should not be afraid--but it would be so horrid--so +cold-blooded. As a gentleman, you know--" + +"No; it is not that!" broke in the girl. "He is right. Neither of us +has the courage--even when he is asleep." + +"My dear Miss Genevieve, this beast instinct to kill--" + +"Yes; but think of him. If he is a beast, he is at least a brave one. +While we--we haven't the courage of rabbits. I thought you called +yourself an English gentleman. Are you going to stand by, and not lift +a finger?" + +"Really, now, Miss Genevieve, to murder a man--" + +"Self-defence is not a crime--self-preservation. If you have a spark of +manhood--" + +"My dear--" + +"For Heaven's sake, if you can't do anything, at least keep still! Oh, +I'm sure I shall go mad! If only I had been drowned!" + +"Ah, yes, to be sure. But really now, what you ask is a good deal for a +man to risk. The fellow might wake up and murder me! Should I take the +risk, might I--er--expect some manifestation of your gratitude, Miss +Genevieve?" + +"Of course! of course! I should always--" + +"I--ah--refer to the--the--bestowal of your hand." + +"My hand? I-- Would you bargain for my esteem? I thought you a +gentleman!" + +"To be sure--to be sure! Who says I am not? But all is fair in love +and war, you know. Your choice is quite free. I take it, you will not +consider his--er--proposals. But if you do not wish my aid, you have +another way of escape--that is--at least other women have done it." + +The girl gazed at him, her eyes dilating with horror as she realized his +meaning. + +"No, no; not that!" she gasped. "I want to live--I've a right to +live! Why, I'm only just twenty-two--I--" + +"Hush!" cautioned Winthrope. "He's coming back. Be calm! There will +be time until I get over this vile malaria. It may be that he himself +will have the fever." + +"He will not have the fever," replied the girl, in a hopeless tone, +and she leaned back listlessly against the baobab, as Blake swung himself +up, frowning and sullen, and flung his weapons from him. + +"Bah!" he grumbled, "I told you that brute was a sneak. I've chased +clean down to the pool and into the open, and not a smell of him. Must +have hiked off into the tall grass the minute he heard me." + +"If only he had gone off for good!" murmured Miss Leslie. + +"Maybe he has; though you never can count on a sneak. Even you might +be able to shoo him off next time; but, like as not, he'd come along +when we were all out calling, and clean out our commissary. Guess I'll +set to and run up a barricade down there where the gully is narrowest. +There're shoals of dead thorn-brush to the right of the pool." + +"Ah, yes; I fancy the vultures will be so vexed when they find your +hedge in the way," remarked Winthrope. + +"My! how smart we're getting!" retorted Blake. "Don't worry, +though. We'll stow the stuff in Miss Jenny's boudoir, and I guess the +birdies'll be polite enough to keep out." + +"I must say, Blake, I do not see why you should wish to drag us away +from here." + +"There're lots of things you don't see, Win, me b'y--jokes, for +instance. But what could you expect?--you're English. Now, don't get +mad. Worst thing in the world for malaria." + +"One would fancy you could see that I am not angry. I've a splitting +headache, and my back hurts. I am ill." + +Blake looked him over critically, and nodded. "That's no lie, old +man. You're entitled to a hospital check all right. Miss Jenny, we'll +appoint you chief nurse. Make him comfortable as you can, and give him +hot broth whenever he'll take it. You can do your sewing on the side. +Whenever you need help, call on me. I'm going to begin that barricade." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +FEVER AND FIRE AND FEAR + + +By nightfall Winthrope was tossing and groaning on the bed of leaves +which Miss Leslie had heaped beneath his canopy. Though not delirious, +his high temperature, coupled with the pains which racked every nerve and +bone in his body, rendered him light-headed. He would catch himself up in +the midst of some rambling nonsense to inquire anxiously whether he had +said anything silly or strange. On being reassured upon this, he would +relax again, and, as likely as not, break into a babyish wail over his +aches and pains. + +Blake shook his head when he learned that the attack had not been +preceded by a chill. + +"Guess he's in for a hot time," he said. "There is more'n one kind +of malarial fever. Some are a whole lot like typhus." + +"Typhus? What is that?" asked Miss Leslie. + +"Sort of rapid fire, double action typhoid. Not that I think Win's got +it--only malaria. What gets me is that we've only been here these few +days, and yet it looks like he's got the continuous, no-chill kind." + +"Then you think he will be very ill?" + +"Well, I guess he'll think so. It ought to run out in a week or ten +days, though. We've had good water, and it usually takes time for +malaria to soak in deep. Now, don't worry, Miss Jenny. It'll do him no +good, and you a lot of harm. Take things easy as you can, for you've +got to keep up your strength. If you don't, you'll be down yourself +before Win is up." + +"Ill while he is helpless and unable--? Oh, no; that cannot be! I must +not give way to the fever until--" + +"Don't worry. You'll likely stave it off for a couple of weeks or so. +You're lively yet, and that's a good sign. I knew Win was in for it +when he began to grouch and loaf and do the baby act. I haven't much use +for dudes in general, and English dudes in particular; but I'll admit +that, while Win's soft enough in spots, he's not all mush and milk." + +"Thank you, Mr. Blake." + +"You're welcome. I couldn't say less, seeing that Win can't speak for +himself. Now you tumble in and get a good sleep. I'll go on as night +nurse, and work at the barricade same time. You're not going to do any +night-nursing. I can gather the thorn-brush in the afternoons, and pile +it up at night." + +In the morning Miss Leslie found that Blake had built a substantial +canopy over the invalid, in place of the first ramshackle structure. + +"It's best for him to be out in the air," he explained; "so I fixed +this up to keep off the dew. But whenever it rains, we'll have to tote +him inside." + +"Ah, yes; to be sure. How is he?" murmured the girl. + +"He's about the same this morning. But he got a little sleep. Keep him +dosed with all the hot broth he'll take. And say, roust me out at noon. +I've had my breakfast. Now I'll have a snooze. So long!" + +He nodded, and crawled under the shade of the nearest bush, too drowsy +to observe her look of dismay. + +At noon, having learned that Winthrope's condition showed little change, +Blake ate a hearty meal, and at once set off down the cleft. He did not +reappear until nightfall; though at intervals Miss Leslie had heard +his step as he came up the ravine with his loads of thorn-brush. + +This course of action became the routine for the following ten days. It +was broken only by three incidents, all relating to the important matter +of food supply. Winthrope had soon tired of broth, and showed such an +insatiable craving for cocoanut milk that the stock on hand had become +exhausted within the week. + +The day after, Blake took the rope ladder, as he called the tangle of +knotted creepers, and went off towards the north end of the cleft. When +he returned, a little before dark, the lower part of his trousers was +torn to shreds, and the palms of his hands were blistered and raw; but he +carried a heavy load of cocoanuts. After a vain attempt to climb the +giant palms on the far side of the river, he had found another grove +near at hand, in the little plain, and had succeeded in reaching the tops +of two of the smaller palms. + +Under his directions, Miss Leslie clarified a bowl of bird +fat--goose-grease, Blake called it,--and dressed his hands. Yet even +with the bandages which she made of soft inner bark and the +handkerchiefs, he was unable to handle the thorn-brush the following day. +Unfortunately for him, he was not content to sit idle. During the night +he had cut a bamboo fishing-pole and lengthened Miss Leslie's line of +plaited cocoanut-fibre with a long catgut leader. In the afternoon he +completed his outfit with a hairpin hook and a piece of half-dried meat. + +He was back an hour earlier than usual, and he brought with him a dozen +or more fair-sized fish. His mouth was watering over the prospective +feast, and Miss Leslie showed herself hardly less eager for a change +from their monotonous diet. As the fish were already dressed, she raked +up the coals and quickly contrived a grill of green bamboos. + +When the odor of the broiling fish spread about in the still air, even +Winthrope sniffed and turned over, while Blake watched the crisping +delicacies with a ravenous look. Unable to restrain himself, he caught +up the smallest fish, half cooked, and bolted it down with such haste +that he burnt his mouth. He ran over to the spring for a drink, and +Winthrope cackled derisively. + +Miss Leslie was too absorbed in her cooking to observe the result of +Blake's greediness. She had turned the fish for the last time, and was +about to lift them off the fire, when Blake came running back, and sent +grill and all flying with a violent kick. + +"Salt!" he gasped--"where's the salt? I'm poisoned!" + +"Poisoned?" + +"Poison fish! Don't eat! God!--Where's the salt?" + +The girl stared at him. His agony was so great that beads of sweat +were rolling down his face. He writhed, and stretched out a quivering +hand--"Salt, quick!--warm water--salt!" + +"But there's none left! You remember, yesterday--" + +"God!" groaned Blake, and for a moment he sank down, overcome by a +racking convulsion. Then his jaw closed like a bulldog's, and gritting +his teeth with the effort, he staggered up and rushed off down the cleft. + +"Stop! stop, Mr. Blake! Where are you going?" screamed the girl. + +She started to run after him, but was halted by an outburst of delirious +laughter. Winthrope was sitting upright and waving his fever-blotched +hands--"Hi, hi! look at 'im run! 'E's got w'at'll do for 'im! Run, +you swine; you--" + +There followed a torrent of cockney abuse so foul that Miss Leslie +blushed scarlet with shame as she sought to quiet him. But the excitement +had so heightened his fever that he was in a raving delirium. It was +close upon midnight before his temperature fell, and he sank into a +death-like torpor. In her ignorance, she supposed that he had fallen +asleep. + +Her relief was short-lived, for soon she remembered Blake. She could +see him lying beside the pool or out on the bare plain, his resolute +eyes cold and glassy, his powerful body contorted in the death agony. +The vision filled her with dismay. With all his coarseness, the man had +showed himself so resourceful, so indomitable, that when she sought to +dwell upon her reasons to fear him, she found herself admiring his virile +manliness. He might be a brute, but he did not belong among the jackals +and hyenas. Indeed, as she called to mind his strong face and frank, +blunt speech she all but disbelieved what her own ears had heard. + +And anyway, without his aid, what should she do? Winthrope had already +become as weak as a child. The emaciation of his jaundiced features was a +mockery of their former plumpness. Blake had said that the fever might +run on for another week, and that even if Winthrope recovered, he would +probably be helpless for several days besides. + +What was no less serious, though she had concealed the fact from Blake, +she herself had been troubled the past week with the depression and +lassitude which had preceded Winthrope's attack. If Blake was dead, +and she should fall ill before Winthrope recovered, they would both die +from lack of care. And if they did not die of the fever, what of their +future, here on this desolate savage coast! + +But the very keenness of her mental anguish so exhausted and numbed the +girl's brain that she at last fell into a heavy sleep. The fire burned +low, and shadowy forms began to creep from behind the bamboos and the +trees and rocks down the gorge. There was no sound; but greedy, wolfish +eyes gleamed in the starlight. + +Only the day before Blake had told Miss Leslie to store the last rack of +cured meat inside the baobab. The two sleepers lay between the fire and +the entrance to the hollow. Slowly the embers of the fire died away +into gray ashes, and slowly the night prowlers drew nearer. The boldest +of the pack crept close to Miss Leslie, and, with teeth bared and back +bristling, sniffed at the edge of her skirt. Whether because of her +heavy breathing or the odor of the leopard skin, the beast drew away, +with an uneasy whine. + +There was a pause; then, backed by three others, the leader approached +Winthrope. He was still lying in the death-like torpor, and he lacked +the protection which, in all likelihood, the leopard skin had given Miss +Leslie. The cowardly brutes took him for dead or dying. They sniffed at +him from head to foot, and then, with a ferocious outburst of snarls and +yells, flung themselves upon him. + +Had it not chanced that Winthrope was lying upon his side, with one arm +thrown up, he would have been fatally wounded by the first slashing +bites of his assailants. The two which sought to tear him were baffled +by the thick folds of Blake's coat, while their leader's slash at the +victim's throat was barred by the upraised arm. With a savage snap, +the beast's jaws closed on the arm, biting through to the bone. At the +same instant the fourth jackal tore ravenously at one of the outstretched +legs. + +With a shriek of agony, Winthrope started up from his torpor, and struck +out frantically in a fury of pain and terror. Startled by the violence +of this unexpected resistance, the jackals leaped back--only to spring +in again as the remainder of the pack made a rush to forestall them. + +Winthrope was staggering to his feet, when the foremost brute leaped +upon him. He fell heavily against one of the main supports of his bamboo +canopy, and the entire structure came down with a crash. Two of the +jackals, caught beneath the roof, howled with fear as they sought to +free themselves. The others, with brute dread of an unknown danger, +drew away, snarling and gnashing their teeth. + +Wakened by the first ferocious yelps of Winthrope's assailants, Miss +Leslie had started up and stared about in the darkness. On all sides she +could see pairs of fiery eyes and dim forms like the phantom creatures +of a nightmare. Winthrope's shriek, instead of spurring her to action, +only confused her the more and benumbed her faculties. She thought it +was his death cry, and stood trembling, transfixed with horror. + +Then came the fall of the canopy. His cries as he sought to throw it off +showed that he was still alive. In a flash her bewilderment vanished. The +stagnant blood surged again through her arteries in a fiery, stimulating +torrent. With a cry, to which primeval instinct lent a menacing note, +she groped her way to the fallen canopy, and stooped to lift up one side. + +"Quick!--into the tree!" she called. + +Still frantic with terror, Winthrope struggled to his feet. She thrust +him towards the baobab, and followed, dragging the mass of interwoven +bamboos. Emboldened by the retreat of their quarry, the snarling pack +instantly began to close in. Fortunately they were too cowardly to rush +at once, and fear spurred their intended victims to the utmost haste. +Groping and stumbling, the two felt their way to the baobab, and Miss +Leslie pushed Winthrope headlong through the entrance. As he fell, she +turned to face the pack. + +The foremost beasts were at the rear edge of the bamboo framework, their +eyes close to the ground. Instinct told her that they were crouching to +leap. With desperate strength she caught up the canopy before her like +a great shield, and drew it in after her until the ends of the cross-bars +were wedged fast against the sides of the opening. Though it seemed +so firm, she clung to it with a convulsive grasp as she felt the pack +leaders fling themselves against the outer side. + +But Blake had lashed the bamboos securely together, and none of the +beasts was heavy enough to snap the supple bars. Finding that they could +not break down the barrier, they began to scratch and tear at the thatch +which covered the frame. Soon a pair of lean jaws thrust in and snapped +at the girl's skirt. She sprang back, with a cry: "Help! Quick, Mr. +Winthrope! They're breaking through!" + +Winthrope made no response. She stooped, and found him lying inert where +he had fallen. She had only herself to depend upon. A screen of sharp +sticks which she had made for the entrance was leaning against the inner +wall, within easy reach. To grasp it and thrust it against the other +framework was the work of an instant. + +Still she trembled, for the eager beasts had ripped the thatch from the +canopy, and their inthrust jaws made short work of the few leaves on her +screen. Unaware that even a lion or a tiger is quickly discouraged by +the knife-like splinters of broken bamboo, she expected every moment that +the jackals would bite their way through her frail barrier. + +She remembered the stakes given her by Winthrope, hidden under the leaves +and grass of her bed. She groped her way across the hollow, and uncovered +one of the stakes. In her haste she cut her hand on its razor-like edge. +All unheeding, she sprang back towards the entrance. She was none too +soon. One of the smaller jackals had forced its head and one leg between +the bars, and was struggling to enlarge the opening. + +Fearful that the whole pack was about to burst in upon her, the girl +grasped the bamboo stake in both hands, and began stabbing and lunging +at the beast with all her strength. The jackal squirmed and snarled and +snapped viciously. But the girl was now frantic. She pressed nearer, +and though the white teeth grazed her wrist, she drove home a thrust +that changed the beast's snarls into a howl of pain. Before she could +strike again, it had struggled back out of the hole, beyond reach. + +Tense and panting with excitement, she leaned forward, ready to stab at +the next beast. None appeared, and presently she became aware that the +pack had been daunted by the experience of their unlucky fellow. Their +snarls and yells had subsided to whines, which seemed to be coming from +a greater distance. Still she waited, with the bamboo stake upraised +ready to strike, every nerve and muscle of her body tense with the strain. + +So great was the stress of her fear and excitement that she had not +heeded the first gray lessening of the night. But now the glorious +tropical dawn came streaming out of the east in all its red effulgence. +Above and through the bamboo barrier glowed a light such as might have +come from a great fire on the cliff top. Still tense and immovable, the +girl stared out up the cleft. There was not a jackal in sight. She +leaned forward and peered around, unable to believe such good fortune. +But the night prowlers had slunk off in the first gray dawn. + +The girl drew in a deep, shuddering sigh, and sank back. Her hand struck +against Winthrope's foot. She turned about quickly and looked at him. He +was lying upon his face. She hastened to turn him upon his side, and +to feel his forehead. It was cool and moist. He was fast asleep and +drenched with sweat. The great shock of his pain and fear and excitement +had broken his fever. + +With the relief and joy of this discovery, the girl completely relaxed. +Not observing Winthrope's wounds, which had bled little, she sought +to force a way out through the entrance. It was by no means an easy task +to free the wedged framework, and when, after much pulling and pushing, +she at last tore the mass loose, she found herself perspiring no less +freely than Winthrope. + +She was far too preoccupied, however, to consider what this might mean. +Her first thought was of the fire. She ran to her rude stone fireplace +and raked over the ashes. They were still warm, but there was not a live +ember among them. Yet she realized that Winthrope must have hot food +when he wakened, and Blake had carried with him the magnifying glass. +For a little she stood hesitating. But the defeat of the jackals had +given her courage and resolution such as she had never before known. She +returned into the cave, and chose the sharpest of her stakes. Having +made certain that Winthrope was still asleep, she set off boldly down +the cleft. + +At the first turn she came upon Blake's thorn barricade. It stretched +across the narrowest part of the cleft in an impenetrable wall, twelve +feet high. Only in the centre was a gap, which could have been filled by +Blake in less than two hours' work. The girl's eyes brightened. She +herself could gather the thorn-brush and fill the gap before night. They +no longer need fear the jackals or even the larger beasts of prey. None +the less, they must have fire. + +Spurred on by the thought, she was about to spring through the barricade +when she heard the tread of feet on the path beyond. She crouched down, +and peered through the tangle of brush in the edge of the gap. Less +than ten paces away Blake was plodding heavily up the trail. She stepped +out before him. + +"You--you! Are you alive?" she gasped. + +"'Live? You bet your boots!" came back the grim response. "You bet +I'm alive--though I had to go Jonah one better to do it. The whale +heaved him up; I heaved up the whale--and it took about a barrel of +sea-water to do it." + +"Sea-water?" + +"Sure . . . . I tumbled over twice on the way. But I made the beach. +Lord! how I pumped in the briny deep! Guess I won't go into details--but +if you think you know anything about seasickness-- _Whew!_ Lucky for +yours truly, the tide was just starting out, and the wind off shore. +I'd fallen in the water, and the Jonah business laid me out cold. +Didn't know anything until the tide came up again and soused me." + +"I am very glad you're not dead. But how you must have suffered! You +are still white, and your face is all creased." + +Blake attempted a careless laugh. "Don't worry about me. I'm here, +O. K., all that's left,--a little wobbly on my pins, but hungry as +a shark. But say, what's up with you? You're sweating like a-- Good +thing, though. It'll stave off your spell of fever a while. How 'd +you happen to be coming down here so early?" + +"I was starting to find you." + +"Me!" + +"Not you--that is, I thought you were dead. I was going to make certain, +and to--to get the burning-glass." + +"Um-m. I see. Let the fire go out, eh?" + +"Do not blame me, Mr. Blake! I was so ill and worn out, and I've paid +for it twice over, really I have. Didn't those awful beasts attack you?" + +"Beasts? How's that?" he demanded. + +"Oh, but you must have heard them! The horrid things tried to kill +us!" she cried, and she poured out a half incoherent account of all that +had happened since he left. + +Blake listened intently, his jaw thrust out, his eyes glowing upon her +with a look which she had never before seen in any man's eyes. But his +first comment had nothing to do with her conduct. + +"How's that?--sorry Win got rousted out of his nice little snooze-- +Snooze! Why, don't you know, we'd been all alone in our glory by +to-night if it hadn't been for those brutes. He was in the stupor, +and that would have been the end of him if the beasts hadn't stirred +him up so lively. I've heard of such a thing before, but I always +thought it was a fake. Here you are sweating, too." + +"I feel much better than yesterday. I did not tell you, but I have felt +ill for nearly a week." + +"'Fraid to tell, eh?--and you were so scared over the beasts-- Scared! +By Jiminy, you've got grit, little woman! There's two kinds of +scaredness; you've got the Stonewall Jackson kind. If anybody asks +you, just refer them to Tommy Blake." + +"Thank you, Mr. Blake. But should we not hasten back now to prepare +something for Mr. Winthrope?" + +"Ditto for yours truly. I'm like that sepulchre you read about--white +outside, and within nothing but bare bones and emptiness." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +WITH BOW AND CLUB + + +The fire was soon re-lit, and a pot of meat set on to stew. It had ample +time to simmer. Winthrope was wrapped in a life-giving sleep, out of +which he did not waken until evening, while Blake, unable to wait for +the pot to boil, and nauseated by the fishy odor of the dried seafowl, +hunted out the jerked leopard meat, and having devoured enough to satisfy +a native, fell asleep under a bush. + +The sun was half down the sky when he sat up and looked around, wide +awake the moment he opened his eyes. Miss Leslie was quietly placing an +armful of sticks on the fuel heap beside the baobab. + +"Hello, Miss Jenny! Hard at it, I see," he called cheerfully. + +"Hush!" she cautioned. "Mr. Winthrope is still asleep." + +"Good thing for him. He'll need all of that he can get." + +"Then you think--?" + +"Well, between you and me, I don't believe Win was built for the +tropics. This fever of his, coming on so soon, wouldn't have hit nine +men in ten half so hard. He's bound to have another spell in a month +or two, and--" + +"But cannot we possibly get away from here before then? Is there no way? +Surely, you are so resourceful--" + +"Nothing doing, Miss Jenny! Give me tools, and I'd engage to turn out +a seagoing boat. But as it is, the only thing I could do would be to +fire-burn a log. That would take two or three months, and in the end +we'd have a lop-sided canoe that'd live about half a second in one of +these tropic squalls." + +"Do not the natives sail in canoes?" + +"Maybe they do--and they make fire by rubbing sticks. We don't." + +"But what can we do?" + +"Take our medicine, and wait for a ship to show up." + +"But we have no medicine." + +"Have no-- Say, Miss Jenny, you really ought to have stayed home from +boarding-school and England long enough to learn your own language. I +meant, we've got to take what's coming to us, without laying down or +grouching. Both are the worst thing out for malaria." + +"You mean that we must resign ourselves to this intolerable +situation--that we must calmly sit here and wait until the fever--" + +"No; I'll take care we don't sit around very much. We'll go on the +hike, soon as Win can wobble. Which reminds me, I've got a little hike +on hand now. I'm going to close up that barricade before dark. Me for +a quiet night!" + +Without waiting for a reply, he took his weapons, and swung briskly away +down the cleft. + +He returned a few minutes before sunset, with what appeared to be a +large fur bag upon his back. Miss Leslie was pouring a bowl of broth +from the stew-pot, and did not notice him until he sang out to her: +"Hey, Miss Jenny, spill over that stuff! No more of that in ours!" + +"It's for Mr. Winthrope. He has just wakened," she replied, still +intent on her pouring. + +"And you'd kill him with that slop! Heave it over. He's going to have +beef juice." + +"Oh! what's that on your back? You've killed an antelope!" + +"Sure! Bushbuck, I guess they call him. Sneaked up when he was drinking, +and stuck an arrow into his side. He jumped off a little way, and turned +to see what'd bit him. I hauled off and put the second arrow right +through his eye, into his brain. Neatest thing you ever saw." + +"You surely are becoming a splendid archer!" + +"Yes; Jim dandy! I could do it again about once in ten thousand shots. +All the same, I've raked in this peacherino. Trot out your grill and +we'll have something fit to eat." + +"You spoke of beef juice." + +"I've a dozen steaks ready to broil. Slap 'em on the fire, and I'll +squeeze out enough juice with my fist to do Win for to-night." + +He made good his assertion, using several of the steaks, which, having +lost less than half their juices in the process, were eaten with great +relish by Miss Leslie and himself. + +Winthrope, after drinking the stimulating beef juice and a quantity of +hot water, turned over and fell asleep again while Blake was dressing +his wounds. None of these was serious of itself; but Blake knew the +danger of infection in the tropics, and carefully washed out the gashes +before applying the tallow salve which Miss Leslie had tried out from +the antelope fat. + +The dressing was completed by torchlight. Blake then rolled the sleeper +into a comfortable position, took the torch from Miss Leslie, and left +the cave, pausing at the entrance to mutter a gruff good-night. The +girl murmured a response, but watched him anxiously as he passed out. +A step beyond the entrance he paused and turned again. In the red +glare of the torch, his face took on an expression that filled her with +fright. Shrouded by the gloom of the hollow, she drew back to her bed, +and without turning her eyes away from him, groped for one of her +bamboo stakes. + +But before she could arm herself, she saw Blake stoop over and grasp +with his free hand the mass of interwoven bamboos. He straightened +himself, and the framework swung lightly up and over, until it stood +on end across the cave entrance. The girl stole around and peered out +at him. He had spread open the antelope skin, and was beginning to slice +the meat for drying. Though his forehead was furrowed, his expression +was by no means sinister. Relieved at the thought that the light must +have deceived her, she returned to her bed and was soon sleeping as +soundly as Winthrope. + +Blake strung the greater part of the meat on the drying racks, built a +smudge fire beneath, and stretched the antelope skin on a frame. This +done, he took his club and a small piece of bloody meat, and walked +stealthily down the cleft to the barricade. Quiet as was his approach, +it was met by a warning yelp on the farther side of the thorny wall, +and he could hear the scurry of fleeing animals. + +He kept on until the barricade loomed up before him in the starlight. +From cliff to cliff the wall now stretched across the gorge without hole +or gap. But Blake grasped the trunk of a young date-palm which projected +from the barricade near the bottom, and pushed it out. The displacement +of the spiky fronds disclosed the low passage which he had made in the +centre of the barricade. He placed the piece of meat on one side, two +or three feet from the hole, and squatted down across from it, with his +club balanced on his shoulder. + +Half an hour passed--an hour; and still he waited, silent and motionless +as a statue. At last stealthy footsteps sounded on the outer side of +the thorn wall, and an animal began to creep through the wall, sniffing +for the bait. Blake waited with the immobility of an Eskimo. The delay +was brief. + +With a boldness for which Blake had not been prepared, the beast leaped +through and seized the meat. Even in the dim light, Blake could see that +he had lured an animal larger than any jackal. But this only served to +lend greater force to his blow. As he struck, he leaped to his feet The +brute fell as though struck by lightning and lay still. + +Blake prodded the inert form warily; then knelt and passed his hands +over it. The beast had whirled about just in time to meet the descending +club, and the blow had crushed in its skull. Chuckling at the success +of his ruse, he drew the palm back into the opening, and swung his prize +over his shoulder. When he came to the fire, a glance showed him that +he had killed a full-grown spotted hyena. + +In the morning, when Miss Leslie appeared, there were two hides stretched +on bamboo frames, and the air was dark with vultures streaming down +into the cleft near the barricade. Blake was sleeping the sleep of the +just, and did not waken until she had built the fire and begun to broil +the steaks which he had saved. + +Again they had a feast of the fresh antelope meat. But with repletion +came more of fastidiousness, and Blake agreed with Miss Leslie when she +remarked that salt would have added to the flavor. He set off presently, +and spent half a day on the talus of the headland, gathering salt from +the rock crannies. + +For the next three days he left the cleft only to gather eggs. The +greater part of his time was spent in tanning the hyena and antelope +skins. Meantime Miss Leslie continued to nurse Winthrope and to gather +firewood. Under Blake's directions, she also purified the salt by +dissolving it in a pot of water, and allowing the dirt to settle, when +the clarified solution was poured off and evaporated over the fire in one +of the earthenware pans. + +At first Winthrope had been too weak to sit up. But treated to a liberal +diet of antelope broth, raw eggs, hot water, and cocoanut milk, he gained +strength faster than Blake had expected. On the fourth day Blake set him +to work on the final rubbing of the new skins; on the fifth, he ordered +him to go for eggs. + +Much to Miss Leslie's surprise, Winthrope started off without a word of +protest. All his peevish irritability and childishness had gone with the +fever, and the girl was gratified to see the quiet manner in which he +set about a task which seemed an imposition upon his half-regained +strength. But the very motive which, seemingly, prevented him from +protesting, impelled her to speak for him. + +"Mr. Blake!" she exclaimed, "Mr. Winthrope is going off without a +word; but I can't endure it! You have no right to send him on such an +errand. It will kill him!" + +Blake met her indignant look with a sober stare. + +"What if it does!" he said. "Better for him to die in the gallant +service of his fellows, than to sit here and rot. Eh, Win?" + +"Do not trouble yourself, Miss Genevieve. I hope I shall pull through +all right. If not--" + +"No, you shall not! I'll go myself!" + +"See here, Miss Leslie," said Blake, somewhat sternly; "who's got +the responsibility of keeping you two alive for the next month or so? +I've been in the tropics before, and I know something of the way people +have to live to get out again. I'm trying to do my best, and I tell you +straight, if you won't mind me, I'm going to make you, no matter how +much it hurts your feelings. You see how nice and meek Win takes his +orders. I explained matters to him last night--" + +"I assure you, Blake, you shall have no cause for complaint as to my +conduct," muttered Winthrope. "I should like to observe, however, that +in speaking to Miss Leslie--" + +"There you are again, with your everlasting talk. Cut it out, and get +busy. To-morrow we all go on a hike to the river." + +As Winthrope started off, Blake turned to Miss Leslie, with a +good-natured grin. + +"You see, it's this way, Miss Jenny--" he began. He caught her look of +disdain, and his face darkened. "Mad, eh? So that's the racket!" + +"Mr. Blake, I will not have you talk to me in that way. Mr. Winthrope +is a gentleman, but nothing more to me than a friend such as any young +woman--" + +"That settles it! I'll take your word for it, Miss Jenny," broke in +Blake, and springing up, he set about his work, whistling. + +The girl gazed at his broad back and erect head, uncertain whether +she should feel relieved or anxious. The more she thought the matter +over, the more uncertain she became, and the more she wondered at her +uncertainty. Could it be possible that she was becoming interested in +a man who, if her ears had not deceived her-- But no! That could not be +possible! + +Yet what a ring there was to his voice!--so clear and tonic after +Winthrope's precise, modulated drawl. And her countryman's firmness! He +could be rude if need be; but he would make her do what he thought was +best for her health. Was it not possible that she had misunderstood his +words on the cliff, and so misjudged--wronged--him?--that Winthrope, so +eager to stipulate for her hand-- But then Winthrope had more than +confirmed her dreadful conclusions taken from Blake's words, and +Winthrope was an English gentleman. It could not be possible that an +English gentleman-- + +She ended in a state of utter bewilderment. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE SAVAGE MANIFEST + + +As Winthrope had succeeded in dragging himself to and from the headland +without a collapse, the following morning, as soon as the dew was dry, +Blake called out all hands for the expedition. He was in the best of +humors, and showed unexpected consideration by presenting Winthrope with +a cane, which he had cut and trimmed during the night. + +Having sent Miss Leslie to fill the whiskey flask with spring water, +he dropped three cocoanut-shell bowls, a piece of meat and a lump of +salt into one of the earthenware pots, and slung all over his shoulder +in the antelope skin. With his bow hung over the other shoulder, knife +and arrows in his belt, and his big club in hand, he looked ready for +any contingency. + +"We'll hit first for the mouth of the river," he said. "I'm going +on ahead. If I'm not in sight when you come up, pick a tree where the +ground is dry, and wait." + +"But I say, Blake," replied Winthrope, "I see animals over in the +coppices, and you should know that I am physically unable--" + +"Nothing but antelope," interrupted Blake. "I've seen them enough +now to know them twice as far off. And you can bet on it they'd not be +there if any dangerous beast was in smelling distance." + +"That is so clever of you, Mr. Blake," remarked Miss Leslie. + +"Simple enough when you happen to think of it," responded Blake. "Yes; +the only thing you've got to look out for's the ticks in the grass. +They'll keep you interested. They bit me up in great shape." + +He scowled at the recollection, nodded by way of emphasis, and was off +like a shot. The edge of the plain beneath the cliff was strewn with +rocks, among which, even with Miss Leslie's help, Winthrope could pick +his way but slowly. Before they were clear of the rough ground, they saw +Blake disappear among the mangroves. + +The ticks proved less annoying than they had apprehended after Blake's +warning. But when they approached the mouth of the river, they were +alarmed to hear, above the roar of the surf, loud snorting, such as +could only be made by large animals. Fearful lest Blake had roused and +angered some forest beast, they veered to the right, and ran to hide +behind a clump of thorns. Winthrope sank down exhausted the moment they +reached cover; but Miss Leslie crept to the far end of the thicket and +peered around. + +"Oh, look here!" she cried. "It's a whole herd of elephants trying +to cross the river mouth where we did, and they're being drowned, poor +things!" + +"Elephants?" panted Winthrope, and he dragged himself forward beside +her. "Why, so there are; quite a drove of the beasts. Yet, I must say, +they appear smaller--ah, yes; see their heads. They must be the hippos +Blake saw." + +"Those ugly creatures? I once saw some at the zoo. Just the same, they +will be drowned. Some are right in the surf!" + +"I can't say, I'm sure, Miss Genevieve, but I have an idea that the +beasts are quite at home in the water. I fancy they enjoy surf bathing +as keenly as ourselves." + +"I do believe you are right. There is one going in from the quiet water. +But look at those funny little ones on the backs of the others!" + +"Must be the baby hippos," replied Winthrope, indifferently. "If you +please, I'll take a pull at the flask. I am very dry." + +When he had half emptied the flask, he stretched out in the shade to +doze. But Miss Leslie continued to watch the movements of the snorting +hippos, amused by the ponderous antics of the grown ones in the surf, +and the comic appearance of the barrel-like infants as they mounted the +backs of their obese mothers. + +Presently Blake came out from among the mangroves, and walked across to +the beach, a few yards away from the huge bathers. To all appearances, +they paid as little attention to him as he to them. Miss Leslie glanced +about at Winthrope. He was fast asleep. She waited a few moments to see +if the hippopotami would attack Blake. They continued to ignore him, +and gaining courage from their indifference, she stepped out from behind +the thicket, and advanced to where Blake was crouched on the beach. When +she came up, she saw beside him a heap of oysters, which he was opening +in rapid succession. + +"Hello! You're just in time to help," he called. "Where's Win!" + +"Asleep behind those bushes." + +"Worst thing he could do. But lend a hand, and we'll shuck these +oysters before rousting him out. You can rinse those I've opened. +Fill the pot with water, and put them in to soak." + +"They look very tempting. How did you chance to find them?" + +"Saw 'em on the mangrove roots at low tide, first time I nosed around +here. Tide was well up to-day; but I managed to get these all right with +a little diving. Only trouble, the skeets most ate me alive." + +Miss Leslie glanced at her companion's dry clothing, and came back to +the oysters themselves. "These look very tempting. Do you like them +raw?" + +"Can't say I like them much any way, as a rule. But if I did, I +wouldn't eat this mess raw." + +"Yes?" + +"This must be the dry season here, and the river is running mighty +clear. Just the same, it's nothing more than liquid malaria. We'll not +eat these oysters till they've been pasteurized." + +"If the water is so dangerous, I fear we will suffer before we can +return," replied Miss Leslie, and she held up the flask. + +"What!" exclaimed Blake. "Half gone already? That was Winthrope." + +"He was very thirsty. Could we not boil a potful of the river water?" + +"Yes, when the ebb gets strong, if we run too dry. First, though, we'll +make a try for cocoanuts. Let's hit out for the nearest grove now. The +main thing is to keep moving." + +As he spoke, Blake caught up the pot and his club, and started for the +thorn clump, leaving the skin, together with the meat and the salt, for +Miss Leslie to carry. Winthrope was wakened by a touch of Blake's foot, +and all three were soon walking away from the seashore, just within the +shady border of the mangrove wood. + +At the first fan-palm Blake stopped to gather a number of leaves, for +their palm-leaf hats were now cracked and broken. A little farther on +a ruddy antelope, with lyrate horns, leaped out of the bush before them +and dashed off towards the river before Blake could string his bow. As +if in mockery of his lack of readiness, a troupe of large green monkeys +set up a wild chattering in a tree above the party. + +"I say, Miss Jenny, do you think you can lug the pot, if we go slow? +It isn't far now." + +"I'll try." + +"Good for you, little woman! That'll give me a chance to shoot quick." + +They moved on again for a hundred yards or more; but though Blake kept +a sharp lookout both above and below, he saw no game other than a few +small birds and a pair of blue wood-pigeons. When he sought to creep up +on the latter, they flew into the next tree. In following them, he came +upon a conical mound of hard clay, nearly four feet high. + +"Hello; this must be one of those white anthills," he said, and he gave +the mound a kick. + +Instantly a tiny object whirred up and struck him in the face. + +"Whee!" he exclaimed, springing back and striking out. "A hornet! No; +it's a bee!" + +"Did it sting you?" cried Miss Leslie. + +"Sting? Keep back; there's a lot more of 'em. Sting? Oh, no; he only +hypodermicked me with a red-hot darning needle! Shy around here. There's +a whole swarm of the little devils, and they're hopping mad. Hear 'em +buzz!" + +"But where is their hive?" asked Winthrope, as all three drew back +behind the nearest bushes. + +"Guess they've borrowed that ant-hill," replied Blake, gingerly +fingering the white lump which marked the spot where the bee had struck +him. + +"Wouldn't it be delightful if we had some honey?" exclaimed Miss +Leslie. + +"By Jove, that really wouldn't be half bad!" chimed in Winthrope. + +"Maybe we can, Miss Jenny; only we'll need a fire to tackle those +buzzers. Guess it'll be as well to let them cool off a bit also. The +cocoanuts are only a little way ahead now. Here; give me the pot." + +They soon came to a small grove of cocoanut palms, where Blake threw down +his club and bow and handed his burning-glass to Miss Leslie. + +"Here," he said; "you and Win start a fire. It's early yet, but I'm +thinking we'll all be ready enough for oyster stew." + +"How about the meat?" asked Miss Leslie. + +"Keep that till later. Here goes for our dessert." + +Selecting one of the smaller palms, Blake spat on his hands, and began +to climb the slender trunk. Aided by previous experiences, he mounted +steadily to the top. The descent was made with even more care and +steadiness, for he did not wish to tear the skin from his hands again. + +"Now, Win," he said, as he neared the bottom and sprang down, "leave +the cooking to Miss Leslie, and husk some of those nuts. You won't +more'n have time to do it before the stew is ready." + +Winthrope's response was to draw out his penknife. Blake stretched +himself at ease in the shade, but kept a critical eye on his companions. +Although Winthrope's fingers trembled with weakness, he worked with +a precision and rapidity that drew a grunt of approval from Blake. +Presently Miss Leslie, who had been stirring the stew with a twig, threw +in a little salt, and drew the pot from the fire. + +"_En avant_, gentlemen! Dinner is served," she called gayly. + +"What's that?" demanded Blake. "Oh; sure. Hold on, Miss Jenny. +You'll dump it all." + +He wrapped a wisp of grass about the pot, and filled the three cocoanut +bowls. The stew was boiling hot; but they fished up the oysters with +the bamboo forks that Blake had carved some days since. By the time the +oysters were eaten, the liquor in the bowl was cool enough to drink. +The process was repeated until the pot had been emptied of its contents. + +"Say, but that was something like," murmured Blake. "If only we'd had +pretzels and beer to go with it! But these nuts won't be bad." + +When they finished the cocoanuts, Winthrope asked for a drink of water. + +"Would it not be best to keep it until later?" replied Miss Leslie. + +"Sure," put in Blake. "We've had enough liquid refreshments to do +any one. If I don't look out, you'll both be drinking river water. +Just bear in mind the work I'd have to carve a pair of gravestones. +No; that flask has got to do you till we get home. I don't shin up any +more telegraph poles to-day." + +"Would it not be best for Mr. Winthrope to rest during the noon hours?" + +"'Fraid not, Miss Jenny. We're not on t'other side of Jordan yet, +and there's no rest for the weary this side." + +"What odd expressions you use, Mr. Blake!" + +"Just giving you the reverse application of one of those songs they +jolly us with in the mission churches--" + +"I'm sure, Mr. Blake--" + +"Me, too, Miss Jenny! So, as that's settled, we'll be moving. Chuck +some live coals in the pot, and come on." + +He started off, weapons in hand. Winthrope made a languid effort to take +possession of the pot. But Miss Leslie pushed him aside, and wrapping all +in the antelope skin, slung it upon her back. + +"The brute!" exclaimed Winthrope. "To leave such a load for you, when +he knew that I can do so little!" + +The girl met his outburst with a brave attempt at a smile. "Please try +to look at the bright side, Mr. Winthrope. Really, I believe he thinks it +is best for us to exert ourselves." + +"He has other opinions with which we of the cultured class would hardly +agree, Miss Leslie. Consider his command that we shall go thirsty +until he permits us to return to the cliffs. The man's impertinence +is intolerable. I shall go to the river and drink when I choose." + +"Oh, but the danger of malaria!" + +"Nonsense. Malaria, like yellow fever, comes only from the bite of +certain species of mosquitoes. If we have the fever, it will be entirely +his fault. We have been bitten repeatedly this morning, and all because +he must compel us to come with him to this infected lowland." + +"Still, I think we should do what Mr. Blake says." + +"My dear Miss Genevieve, for your sake I will endeavor not to break with +the fellow. Only, you know, it is deuced hard to keep one's temper when +one considers what a bounder--what an unmitigated cad--" + +"Stop! I will not listen to another word!" exclaimed the girl, and she +hurried after Blake, leaving Winthrope staring in astonishment. + +"My word!" he muttered; "can it be, after all I've done--and him, +of all the low fellows--" + +He stood for several moments in deep thought. The look on his sallow face +was far from pleasant. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE SERPENT STRIKES + + +When Winthrope came up with the others, they were gathering green leaves +to throw on the fire which was blazing close beside the ant-hill. + +"Get a move on you!" called Blake. "You're slow. Grab a bunch of +leaves, and get into the smoke, if you don't want to be stung." + +Winthrope neither gathered any leaves nor hurried himself, until he was +visited by a highly irritated bee. Then he obeyed with alacrity. Blake +was far too intent on other matters to heed the Englishman. Leaping in +and out of the thick of the smoke, he pounded the ant-hill with his club, +until he had broken a gaping hole into the cavity. The smoke, pouring +into the hive, made short work of the bees that had not already been +suffocated. + +Although the antelope skin was drawn into the shape of a sack, both it +and the pot were filled to overflowing with honey, and there were still +more combs left than the three could eat. + +Blake caught Winthrope smiling with satisfaction as he licked his fingers. + +"What's the matter with my expedition now, old man?" he demanded. + +"I--ah--must admit, Blake, we have had a most enjoyable change of food." + +"If you are sure it will agree with you," remarked Miss Leslie. + +"But I am sure of that, Miss Genevieve. I could digest anything to-day. +I'm fairly ravenous." + +"All the more reason to be careful," rejoined Blake. "I guess, though, +what we've had'll do no harm. We'll let it settle a bit, here in the +shade, and then hit the home trail." + +"Could we not first go to the river, Mr. Blake? My hands are dreadfully +sticky." + +"Win will take you. It's only a little way to the bank here and +there's not much underbrush." + +"If you think it's quite safe--" remarked Winthrope. + +"It's safe enough. Go on. You'll see the river in half a minute. Only +thing, you'd better watch out for alligators." + +"I believe that--er--properly speaking, these are crocodiles." + +"You don't say! Heap of difference it will make if one gets you." + +Miss Leslie caught Winthrope's eye. He turned on his heel, and led the +way for her through the first thicket. Beyond this they came to a little +glade which ran through to the river. When they reached the bank, they +stepped cautiously down the muddy slope, and bathed their hands in the +clear water. As Miss Leslie rose, Winthrope bent over and began to drink. + +"Oh, Mr. Winthrope!" she exclaimed; "please don't! In your weak +condition, I'm so afraid--" + +"Do not alarm yourself. I am perfectly well, and I am quite as competent +to judge what is good for me as your--ah--countryman." + +"Mr. Winthrope, I am thinking only of your own good." + +Winthrope took another deep draught, rinsed his fingers fastidiously, and +arose. + +"My dear Miss Genevieve," he observed, "a woman looks at these matters +in such a different light from a man. But you should know that there are +some things a gentleman cannot tolerate." + +"You were welcome to all the water in the flask. Surely with that you +could have waited, if only to please me." + +"Ah, if you put it that way, I must beg pardon. Anything to please you, +I'm sure! Pray forgive me, and forget the incident. It is now past." + +"I hope so!" she murmured; but her heart sank as she glanced at his +sallow face, and she recalled his languid, feeble movements. + +Piqued by her look, Winthrope started back through the glade. Miss +Leslie was turning to follow, when she caught sight of a gorgeous crimson +blossom under the nearest tree. It was the first flower she had seen +since being shipwrecked. She uttered a little cry of delight, and ran to +pluck the blossom. + +Winthrope, glancing about at her exclamation, saw her stoop over the +flower--and in the same instant he saw a huge vivid coil, all black and +green and yellow, flash up out of the bedded leaves and strike against +the girl. She staggered back, screaming with horror, yet seemed unable +to run. + +Winthrope swung up his stick, and dashed across the glade towards her. + +"What is it--a snake?" he cried. + +The girl did not seem to hear him. She had ceased screaming, and stood +rigid with fright, glaring down at the ground before her. In a moment +Winthrope was near enough, to make out the brilliant glistening body, +now extended full length in the grass. It was nearly five feet long and +thick as his thigh. Another step, and he saw the hideous triangular +head, lifted a few inches on the thick neck. The cold eyes were fixed +upon the girl in a malignant, deadly stare. + +"Snake! snake!" he yelled, and thrust his cane at the reptile's tail. + +Again came a flashing leap of the beautiful ornate coil, and the +stick was struck from Winthrope's hand. He danced backward, wild +with excitement. + +"Snake!--Hi, Blake! monster!--Run, Miss Leslie! I'll hold him--I'll +get another stick!" + +He darted aside to catch up a branch, and then ran in and struck boldly +at the adder, which reared hissing to meet him. But the blow fell short, +and the rotten wood shattered on the ground. Again Winthrope ran aside +for a stick. There was none near, and as he paused to glance about, +Blake came sprinting down the glade. + +"Where?" he shouted. + +"There--Hi! look out! You'll be on him!" + +Blake stopped short, barely beyond striking distance of the hissing +reptile. + +"Wow!" he yelled. "Puff adder! I'll fix him." + +He leaped back, and thrust his bow at the snake. The challenge was met +by a vicious lunge. Even where he stood Winthrope heard the thud of the +reptile's head upon the ground. + +"Now, once more, tootsie!" mocked Blake, swinging up his club. + +Again the adder struck at the bow tip, more viciously than before. With +the flash of the stroke, Blake's right foot thrust forward, and his +club came down with all the drive of his sinewy arm behind it. The blow +fell across the thickest part of the adder's outstretched body. + +"Told you so! See him wiggle!" shouted Blake. "Broke his back, first +lick-- What's the matter, Miss Jenny? He can't do anything now." + +Miss Leslie did not answer. She stood rigid, her face ashy-gray, her +dilated eyes fixed upon the writhing, hissing adder. + +"I--I think the snake struck her!" gasped Winthrope, suddenly overcome +with horror. + +"God!" cried Blake. He dropped his club, and rushed to the girl. In +a moment he had knelt before her and flung up her leopard-skin skirt. +Her stockings ripped to shreds in his frantic grasp. There, a little +below her right knee, was a tiny red wound. Blake put his lips to it, +and sucked with fierce energy. + +Then the girl found her voice. + +"Go away--go away! How dare you!" she cried, as her face flushed +scarlet. + +Blake turned, spat, and burst out with a loud demand of Winthrope: +"Quick! the little knife--I'll have to slash it! Ten times worse +than a rattlesnake-- Lord! you're slow--I'll use mine!" + +"Let go of me--let go! What do you mean, sir?" cried the girl, +struggling to free herself. + +"Hold still, you little fool!" he shouted. "It's death--sure death, +if I don't get the poison from that bite!" + +"I'm not bitten-- Let go, I say! It struck in the fold of my skirt." + +"For God's sake, Jenny, don't lie! It's certain death! I saw the +mark--" + +"That was a thorn. I drew it out an hour ago." + +Blake looked up into her hazel eyes. They were blazing with indignant +scorn. He freed her, and rose with clumsy slowness. Again he glanced at +her quivering, scarlet face, only to look away with a sheepish expression. + +"I guess you think I'm just a damned meddlesome idiot," he mumbled. + +She did not answer. He stood for a little, rubbing a finger across his +sun-blistered lips. Suddenly he stopped and looked at the finger. It was +streaked with blood. + +"Whew!" he exclaimed. "Didn't stop to think of that! It's just as +well for me, Miss Jenny, that wasn't an adder bite. A little poison on +my sore lip would have done for me. Ten to one, we'd both have turned +up our toes at the same time. Of course, though, that'd be nothing to +you." + +Miss Leslie put her hands before her face, and burst into hysterical +weeping. + +Blake looked around, far more alarmed than when facing the adder. + +"Here, you blooming lud!" he shouted; "take the lady away, and be +quick about it. She'll go dotty if she sees any more snake stunts. Clear +out with her, while I smash the wriggler." + +Winthrope, who had been staring fixedly at the beautiful coloring and +loathsome form of the writhing adder, started at Blake's harsh command +as though struck. + +"I--er--to be sure," he stammered, and darting around to the hysterical +girl, he took her arm and hurried her away up the glade. + +They had gone several paces when Blake came running up behind them. +Winthrope looked back with a glance of inquiry. Blake shook his head. + +"Not yet," he said. "Give me your cigarette case. I've thought of +something-- Hold on; take out the cigarettes. Smoke 'em, if you like." + +Case in hand, Blake returned to the wounded adder, and picked up his +club. A second smashing blow would have ended the matter at once; but +Blake did not strike. Instead, he feinted with his club until he managed +to pin down the venomous head. The club lay across the monster's neck, +and he held it fast with the pressure of his foot. + +When, half an hour later, he wiped his knife on a wisp of grass and stood +up, the cigarette case contained over a tablespoonful of a crystalline +liquid. He peered in at it, his heavy jaw thrust out, his eyes glowing +with savage elation. + +"Talk about your meat trusts and Winchesters!" he exulted; "here's a +whole carload of beef in this little box--enough dope to morgue a herd of +steers. Good God, though, that was a close shave for her!" + +His face sobered, and he stood for several moments staring thoughtfully +into space. Then his gaze chanced to fall upon the great crimson blossom +which had so nearly lured the girl to her death. + +"Hello!" he exclaimed; "that's an amaryllis. Wonder if she wasn't +coming to pick it--" He snapped shut the lid of the cigarette case, +thrust it carefully into his shirt pocket, and stepped forward to pluck +the flower. "Makes a fellow feel like a kid; but maybe it'll make her +feel less sore at me." + +He stood gazing at the flower for several moments, his eyes aglow with a +soft blue light. + +"Whew!" he sighed; "if only-- But what's the use? She's 'way out of +my class--a rough brute like me! All the same, it's up to me to take +care of her. She can't keep me from being her friend--and she sure +can't object to my picking flowers for her." + +Amaryllis in hand, he gathered up his bow and club. Then he paused to +study the skin of the decapitated adder. The inspection ended with a +shake of his head. + +"Better not, Thomas. It would make a dandy quiver; but then, it might +get on her nerves." + +When he came to the ant-hill, he found companions and honey alike gone. +He went on to the cocoanuts. There he came upon Winthrope stretched flat +beside the skin of honey. Miss Leslie was seated a little way beyond, +nervously bending a palm-leaf into shape for a hat. + +"I say, Blake," drawled Winthrope, "you've been a deuced long time +in coming. It was no end of a task to lug the honey--" + +Blake brushed past without replying, and went on until he stood before +the girl. As she glanced up at him, he held out the crimson blossom. + +"Thought you might like posies," he said, in a hesitating voice. + +Instead of taking the flower, she drew back with a gesture of repulsion. + +"Oh, take it away!" she exclaimed. + +Blake flung the rejected gift on the ground, and crushed it beneath his +heel. + +"Catch me making a fool of myself again!" he growled. + +"I--I did not mean it that way--really I didn't, Mr. Blake. It was the +thought of that awful snake." + +But Blake, cut to the quick, had turned away, far too angry to heed what +she said. He stopped short beside the Englishman; but only to sling the +skin of honey upon his back. The load was by no means a light one, even +for his strength. Yet he caught up the heavy pot as well, and made off +across the plain at a pace which the others could not hope to equal. + +As Winthrope rose and came forward to join Miss Leslie, he looked about +closely for the bruised flower. It was nowhere in sight. + +"Er--beg pardon, Miss Genevieve, but did not Blake drop the +bloom--er--blossom somewhere about here?" + +"Perhaps he did," replied Miss Leslie. She spoke with studied +indifference. + +"I--ah--saw the fellow exhibit his impudence." + +"Ye-es?" + +"You know, I think it high time the bounder is taken down a peg." + +"Ah, indeed! Then why do you not try it?" + +"Miss Genevieve! you know that at present I am physically so much his +inferior--" + +"How about mentally?" + +Though the girl's eyes were veiled by their lashes, she saw Winthrope +cast after Blake a look that seemed to her almost fiercely vindictive. + +"Well?" she said, smiling, but watching him closely. + +"Mentally!--We'll soon see about that!" he muttered. "I must say, +Miss Genevieve, it strikes me as deuced odd, you know, to hear you speak +so pleasantly of a person who--not to mention past occurrences--has +to-day, with the most shocking disregard of--er--decency--" + +"Stop!--stop this instant!" screamed the girl, her nerves overwrought. + +Winthrope smiled with complacent assurance. + +"My dear young lady," he drawled, "allow me to repeat, 'All is fair +in love and war.' Believe me, I love you most ardently." + +"No gentleman would press his suit at such a time as this!" + +"Really now, I fancy I have always comported myself as a gentleman--" + +"A trifle too much so, truth to say!" she retorted. + +"Ah, indeed. However, this is now quite another matter. Has it not +occurred to you, my dear, that this entire experience of ours since +that beastly storm is rather--er--compromising?" + +"You--you dare say such a thing! I'll go this instant and tell Mr. +Blake! I'll--" + +"Begging your pardon, madam,--but are you prepared to marry that +barbarous clodhopper?" + +"Marry? What do you mean, sir?" + +"Precisely that. It is a question of marriage, if you'll pardon me. +And, you see, I flatter myself, that when it comes to the point, it will +not be Blake, but myself--" + +"Ah, indeed! And if I should prefer neither of you?" + +"Begging your pardon,--I fancy you will honor me with your hand, my +dear. For one thing, you admit that I am a gentleman." + +"Oh, indeed!" + +"One moment, please! I am trying to intimate to you, as delicately as +possible, how--er--embarrassing you would find it to have these little +occurrences--above all, to-day's--noised abroad to the vulgar crowd, +or even among your friends--" + +"What do you mean? What do you want?" cried the girl, staring at him +with a deepening fear in her bewildered eyes. + +"Believe me, my dear, it grieves me to so perturb you; but--er--love +must have its way, you know." + +"You forget. There is Mr. Blake." + +"Ah, to be sure! But really now, you would not ask, or even permit +him to murder me; and one is not legally bound, you know, to observe +promises--a pledge of silence, for example--when extorted under duress, +under violence, you know." + +Miss Leslie looked the Englishman up and down, her brown eyes sparkling +with quick-returning anger. He met her scorn with a smile of smug +complacency. + +"Cad!" she cried, and turning her back upon him, she set out across +the plain after Blake. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE EAVESDROPPER CAUGHT + + +Even had it not been for her doubts of Blake, the girl's modesty would +have caused her to think twice before repeating to him the Englishman's +insulting proposal. While she yet hesitated and delayed, Winthrope +came down with a second attack of fever. Blake, who until then had held +himself sullenly apart from him as well as from Miss Leslie, at once +softened to a gentler, or, at least, to a more considerate mood. Though +his speech and bearing continued morose, he took upon himself all the +duties of night nurse, besides working and foraging several hours each +day. + +Much to Miss Leslie's surprise, she found herself tending the invalid +through the daytime almost as though nothing had happened. But everything +about this wild and perilous life was so strange and unnatural to her +that she found herself accepting the most unconventional relations as +a regular consequence of the situation. She was feverishly eager for +anything that might occupy her mind; for she felt that to brood over +the future might mean madness. The mere thought of the possibilities was +far too terrifying to be calmly dwelt upon. Though slight, there had been +some little comfort in the belief that she could rely on Winthrope. +But now she was left alone with her doubt and dread. Even if she had +nothing to fear from Blake, there were all the savage dangers of the +coast, and behind those, far worse, the fever. + +Meantime Blake went about his share of the camp work, gruff and silent, +but with the usual concrete results. He brought load after load of fresh +cocoanuts, and took great pains to hunt out the deliciously flavored +eggs of the frigate birds to tempt Winthrope's failing appetite. +When Miss Leslie suggested that beef juice would be much better for the +invalid than broth, he went out immediately in search of a gum-bearing +tree, and that night, after heating a small quantity of gum in the +cigarette case with the adder poison, he spent hours replacing his +arrow-heads with small barbed tips that could be loosened from their +sockets by a slight pull. + +A little before dawn he dipped two of his new arrow-heads in the sticky +contents of the cigarette case, fitted them carefully to their shafts, +and stole away down the cleft. Dawn found him crouched low in the grass +where the overflow from the pool ran out into the plain along its little +channel. He could see large forms moving away from him; then came the +flood of crimson light, and he made out that the figures were a drove of +huge eland. + +His eyes flashed with eagerness. It was a long shot; but he knew that +no more was required than to pierce the skin on any part of his quarry's +body. He put his fingers between his teeth, and sent out a piercing +whistle. It was a trick he had tried more than once on deer and pronghorn +antelope. As he expected, the eland halted and swung half around. Their +ox-like sides presented a mark hard to miss. + +He rose and shot as they were wheeling to fly. Before he could fit +his second arrow to the string, the whole herd were running off at a +lumbering gallop. He lowered his bow, and walked after the animals, +smiling with grim anticipation. He had seen his arrow strike against +the side of the young bull at which he had aimed. + +A little beyond where the bull had stood, he came upon the headless shaft +of his arrow. As he stooped and caught it up, he saw one of the fleeing +animals fall. When he came up with the dead bull, his first act was to +recover his arrow-tip and cut out the flesh around the wound. Provided +only with his weak-bladed knife, he found it no easy task to butcher +so large a beast. Though he had now acquired considerable dexterity in +the art, noon had passed before he brought the first load of meat up the +cleft. + +So great was the abundance of meat that Blake worked all the remainder +of the day and all night stringing the flesh on the curing racks, and +Miss Leslie tried out pot after pot of fat and tallow, until every spare +vessel was filled, and she had to resort to a hollow in the rock beside +the spring. Blake promised to make more pots as soon as he could fetch +the clay, but he had first to dress the eland hide, and prepare a new +stock of thread and cord from parts of the animal which he was careful +not to let her see. + +Whatever their concern for the future,--and even Blake's was keen and +bitter,--the party, as a party, for the time being might have been +considered extremely fortunate. They had a shelter secure alike from +the weather and from wild beasts; an abundance of nutritious food, and, +as material for clothing, the bushbuck, hyena, and eland hides. To +obtain more skins and more meat Blake now knew would be a simple matter +so long as he had enough poison left in the cigarette case to moisten +the tips of his arrows. + +Even Winthrope's relapse proved far less serious than might reasonably +have been expected. The fever soon left him, and within a few days he +regained strength enough to care for himself. Here, however, much to +Blake's perplexity and concern, his progress seemed to stop, and all +Blake's urging could do no more than cause him to move languidly from +one shady spot to another. He would receive Blake's orders with a smile +and a drawling "Ya-as, to be sure!"--and would then absolutely ignore +the matter. + +Only in two ways did the invalid exhibit any signs of energy. He could +and did eat with a heartiness little short of that shown by Blake, +and he would insist upon seeking opportunities to press his attentions +upon Miss Leslie. He was careful to avoid all offensive remarks; yet +the veriest commonplace from his lips was now an offence to the girl. +While he needed her as nurse, she had endured his talk as part of her +duty. But now she felt that she could no longer do so. Taking advantage +of a time when the Englishman was, as she supposed, enjoying a noonday +siesta down towards the barricade, she went to meet Blake, who had +been up on the cliff for eggs. + +"Hello!" he sang out, as he swung down the tree, one hand gripping the +clay pot in which he had gathered the eggs. "What you doing out in the +sun? Get into the shade." + +She stepped into the shade, and waited until he had climbed down the pile +of stones which he had built for steps at the foot of the tree. + +"Mr. Blake," she began, "could not I do this work,--gather the eggs?" + +"You could, if I'd let you, Miss Jenny. But it strikes me you've got +quite enough to do. Tell you the truth, I'd like to make Win take it +in hand again. But all my cussing won't budge him an inch, and you know, +when it comes to the rub, I couldn't wallop a fellow who can hardly +stand up." + +"Is he really so weak?" she murmured. + +"Well, you know how-- Say, you don't mean that you think he's +shamming?" + +"I did not say that I thought so, Mr. Blake. I do not care to talk about +him. What I wish is that you will let me attend to this work." + +"Couldn't think of it, Miss Jenny! You're already doing your share." + +"Mr. Blake,--if you must know,--I wish to have a place where I can go +and be apart--alone." + +Blake scowled. "Alone with that dude! He'd soon find enough strength to +climb up with you on the cliff." + +"I--ah--Mr. Blake, would he be apt to follow me, if I told you +distinctly I should rather be alone?" + +"Would he? Well, I should rather guess not!" cried Blake, making no +attempt to conceal his delight. "I'll give him a hint that'll make +his hair curl. From now on, nobody climbs up this tree but you, without +first asking your permission." + +"Thank you, Mr. Blake! You are very kind." + +"Kind to let you do more work! But say, I'll help out all I can on the +other work. You know, Miss Jenny,--a rough fellow like me don't know +how to say it, but he can think it just the same,--I'd do anything in +the world for you!" + +As he spoke, he held out his rough, powerful hand. She shrank back a +little, and caught her breath in sudden fright. But when she met his +steady gaze, her fear left her as quickly as it had come. She impulsively +thrust out her hand, and he seized it in a grip that brought the tears +to her eyes. + +"Miss Jenny! Miss Jenny!" he murmured, utterly unconscious that he was +hurting her, "you know now that I'm your friend, Miss Jenny!" + +"Yes, Mr. Blake," she answered, blushing and drawing her hand free. +"I believe you are a friend--I believe I can trust you." + +"You can, by--Jiminy! But say," he continued, blundering with dense +stupidity, "do you really mean that? Can you forgive me for being so +confounded meddlesome, the other day, after the snake--" + +He stopped short, for upon the instant she was facing him, as on that +eventful day, scarlet with shame and anger. + +"How dare you speak of it?" she cried. "You're--you're not a +gentleman!" + +Before he could reply, she turned and left him, walking rapidly and with +her head held high. Blake stared after her in bewilderment. + +"Well, what in--what in thunder have I done now?" he exclaimed. +"Ladies are certainly mighty funny! To go off at a touch--and just +when I thought we were going to be chums! But then, of course, I've +the whole thing to learn about nice girls--like her!" + +"I--ah--must certainly agree with you there, Blake," drawled Winthrope, +from beside the nearest bush. + +Blake turned upon him with savage fury: "You dirty sneak!--you +_gentleman!_ You've been eavesdropping!" + +The Englishman's yellow face paled to a sallow mottled gray. He had seen +the same look in Blake's eyes twice before, and this time Blake was far +more angry. + +"You sneak!--you sham gent!" repeated the American, his voice sinking +ominously. + +Winthrope dropped in an abject heap, as though Blake had struck him with +his club. + +"No, no!" he protested shrilly. "I am a real--I am--I'm a not--" + +"That's it--you're a not! That's true!" broke in Blake, with sudden +grim humor. "You're a nothing. A fellow can't even wipe his shoes on +nothing!" + +The change to sarcasm came as an immense relief to Winthrope. + +"Ah, I say now, Blake," he drawled, pulling together his assurance the +instant the dangerous light left Blake's eyes, "I say now, do you think +it fair to pick on a man who is so much your--er--who is ill and weak?" + +"That's it--do the baby act," jeered Blake. "But say, I don't +know just how much eavesdropping you did; so there's one thing I'll +repeat for the special benefit of your ludship. It'll be good for your +delicate health to pay attention. From now on, the cliff top belongs to +Miss Leslie. Gents and book agents not allowed. Understand? You don't +go up there without her special invite. If you do, I'll twist your +damned neck!" + +He turned on his heel, and left the Englishman cowering. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +AN OMINOUS LULL + + +The three saw nothing more of each other that day. Miss Leslie had +withdrawn into the baobab, and Blake had gone off down the cleft for +more salt. He did not return until after the others were asleep. Miss +Leslie had gone without her supper, or had eaten some of the food stored +within the tree. + +When, late the next morning, she finally left her seclusion, Blake was +nowhere in sight. Ignoring Winthrope's attempts to start a conversation, +she hurried through her breakfast, and having gathered a supply of food +and water, went to spend the day on the headland. + +Evening forced her to return to the cleft. She had emptied the water +flask by noon, and was thirsty. Winthrope was dozing beneath his canopy, +which Blake had moved some yards down towards the barricade. Blake was +cooking supper. + +He did not look up, and met her attempt at a pleasant greeting with an +inarticulate grunt. When she turned to enter the baobab, she found the +opening littered with bamboos and green creepers and pieces of large +branches with charred ends. On either side, midway through the entrance, +a vertical row of holes had been sunk through the bark of the tree into +the soft wood. + +"What is this?" she asked. "Are you planning a porch?" + +"Maybe," he replied. + +"But why should you make the holes so far in? I know so little about +these matters, but I should have fancied the holes would come on the +front of the tree." + +"You'll see in a day or two." + +"How did you make the holes? They look black, as though--" + +"Burnt 'em, of course--hot stones." + +"That was so clever of you!" + +He made no response. + +Supper was eaten in silence. Even Winthrope's presence would have +been a relief to the girl; yet she could not go to waken him, or even +suggest that her companion do so. Blake sat throughout the meal sullen +and stolid, and carefully avoided meeting her gaze. Before they had +finished, twilight had come and gone, and night was upon them. Yet +she lingered for a last attempt. + +"Good-night, friend!" she whispered. + +He sprang up as though she had struck him, and blundered away into the +darkness. + +In the morning it was as before. He had gone off before she wakened. She +lingered over breakfast; but he did not appear, and she could not endure +Winthrope's suave drawl. She went for another day on the headland. + +She returned somewhat earlier than on the previous day. As before, +Winthrope was dozing in the shade. But Blake was under the baobab, raking +together a heap of rubbish. His hands were scratched and bleeding. To the +girl's surprise, he met her with a cheerful grin and a clear, direct +glance. + +"Look here," he called. + +She stepped around the baobab, and stood staring. The entrance, from the +ground to the height of twelve feet, was walled up with a mass of thorny +branches, interwoven with yet thornier creepers. + +"How's that for a front door?" he demanded. + +"Door?" + +"Yes." + +"But it's so big. I could never move it." + +"A child could. Look." He grasped a projecting handle near the bottom +of the thorny mass. The lower half of the door swung up and outward, the +upper half in and downward. "See; it's balanced on a crossbar in the +middle. Come on in." + +She walked after him in under the now horizontal door. He gave the inner +end a light upward thrust, and the door swung back in its vertical +circle until it again stood upright in the opening. From the inside the +girl could see the strong framework to which was lashed the facing of +thorns. It was made of bamboo and strong pieces of branches, bound +together with tough creepers. + +"Pretty good grating, eh?" remarked Blake. "When those green creepers +dry, they'll shrink and hold tight as iron clamps. Even now nothing +short of a rhinoceros could walk through when the bars are fast. See +here." + +He stepped up to the novel door, and slid several socketed crossbars +until their outer ends were deep in the holes in the tree trunk, three +on each side. + +"How's that for a set of bolts?" he demanded. + +"Wonderful! Really, you are very, very clever! But why should you go +to all this trouble, when the barricade--" + +"Well, you see, it's best to be on the safe side." + +"But it's absurd for you to go to all this needless work. Not that I do +not appreciate your kind thought for my safety. Yet look at your hands!" + +Blake hastened to put his bleeding hands behind him. + +"They are no sight for a lady!" he muttered apologetically. + +"Go and wash them at once, and I'll put on a dressing." + +Blake glowed with frank pleasure, yet shook his head. + +"No, thank you, Miss Jenny. You needn't bother. They'll do all right." + +"You must! It would please me." + +"Why, then, of course-- But first, I want to make sure you understand +fastening the door. Try the bars yourself." + +She obeyed, sliding the bars in and out until he nodded his satisfaction. + +"Good!" he said. "Now promise me you'll slide 'em fast every night." + +"If you ask it. But why?" + +"I want to make perfectly safe." + +"Safe? But am I not secure with--" + +"Look here, Miss Leslie; I'm not going to say anything about anybody." + +"Perhaps you had better say no more, Mr. Blake." + +"That's right. But whatever happens, you'll believe I've done my +best, won't you?--even if I'm not a-- Promise me straight, you'll +lock up tight every night." + +"Very well, I promise," responded the girl, not a little troubled by +the strangeness of his expression. + +He turned at once, swung open the door, and went out. During supper he +was markedly taciturn, and immediately afterwards went off to his bed. + +That night Miss Leslie dutifully fastened herself in with all six bars. +She wakened at dawn, and hastened out to prepare Blake's breakfast, but +she found herself too late. There were evidences that he had eaten and +gone off before dawn. The stretching frame of one of the antelope skins +had been moved around by the fire, and on the smooth inner surface of +the hide was a laconic note, written with charcoal in a firm, bold hand:-- + +"_Exploring inland. Back by night, if can_." + +She bit her lip in her disappointment, for she had planned to show him +how much she appreciated his absurd but well-meant concern for her +safety. As it was, he had gone off without a word, and left her to +the questionable pleasure of a _tête-à -tête_ with Winthrope. Hoping to +avoid this, she hurried her preparations for a day on the cliff. But +before she could get off, Winthrope sauntered up, hiding his yawns behind +a hand which had regained most of its normal plumpness. His eye was at +once caught by the charcoal note. + +"Ah!" he drawled; "really now, this is too kind of him to give us the +pleasure of his absence all day!" + +"Ye-es!" murmured Miss Leslie. "Permit me to add that you will also +have the pleasure of my absence. I am going now." + +Winthrope looked down, and began to speak very rapidly: "Miss Genevieve, +I--I wish to apologize. I've thought it over. I've made a mistake--I--I +mean, my conduct the other day was vile, utterly vile! Permit me to +appeal to your considerateness for a man who has been unfortunate--who, +I mean, has been--er--was carried away by his feelings. Your favoring +of that bloom--er--that--er--bounder so angered me that I--that I--" + +"Mr. Winthrope!" interrupted the girl, "I will have you to understand +that you do not advance yourself in my esteem by such references to Mr. +Blake." + +"Aye! aye, that Blake!" panted Winthrope. "Don't you see? It's 'im, +an' that blossom! W'en a man's daffy--w'en 'e's in love!--" + +Miss Leslie burst into a nervous laugh; but checked herself on the +instant. + +"Really, Mr. Winthrope!" she exclaimed, "you must pardon me. I--I +never knew that cultured Englishmen ever dropped their h's. As it +happens, you know, I never saw one excited before this." + +"Ah, yes; to be sure--to be sure!" murmured Winthrope, in an odd tone. + +The girl threw out her hand in a little gesture of protest. + +"Really, I'm sorry to have hurt--to have been so thoughtless!" + +Winthrope stood silent. She spoke again: "I'll do what you ask. I'll +make allowances for your--for your feelings towards me, and will try +to forget all you said the other day. Let me begin by asking a favor of +you." + +"Ah, Miss Genevieve, anything, to be sure, that I may do!" + +"It is that I wish your opinion. When Mr. Blake finished that absurd +door last evening, he would not tell me why he had built it--only a vague +statement about my safety." + +"Ah! He did not go into particulars?" drawled Winthrope. + +"No, not even a hint; and he looked so--odd." + +Winthrope slowly rubbed his soft palms on upon the other. + +"Do you--er--really desire to know his--the motive which actuated him?" +he murmured. + +"I should not have mentioned it to you, if I did not," she answered. + +"Well--er--" He hesitated and paused for a full minute. "You see, +it is a rather difficult undertaking to intimate such a matter to a +lady--just the right touch of delicacy, you know. But I will begin by +explaining that I have known it since the first--" + +"Known what?" + +"Of that bound--of--er--Blake's trouble." + +"Trouble?" + +"Ah! Perhaps I should have said affliction; yes, that is the better +word. To own the truth, the fellow has some good qualities. It was no +doubt because he realised, when in his better moments--" + +"Better moments? Mr. Winthrope, I am not a child. In justice both to +myself and to Mr. Blake, I must ask you to speak out plainly." + +"My dear Miss Leslie, may I first ask if you have not observed how +strangely at times the fellow acts,--'looks odd,' as you put it,--how +he falls into melancholia or senseless rages? I may truthfully state +that he has three times threatened my life." + +"I--I thought his anger quite natural, after I had so rudely--and so +many people are given to brooding-- But if he was violent to you--" + +"My dear Miss Genevieve, I hold nothing against the miserable fellow. At +such times he is not--er--responsible, you know. Let us give the fellow +full credit--that is why he himself built your door." + +"Oh, but I can't believe it! I can't believe it!" cried the girl. +"It's not possible! He's so strong, so true and manly, so kind, for +all his gruffness!" + +"Ah, my dear!" soothed Winthrope, "that is the pity of it. But when +a man must needs be his worst enemy, when he must needs lead a certain +kind of life, he must take the consequences. To put it as delicately as +possible, yet explain all, I need only say one word--paranoia." + +Miss Leslie gathered up her day's outfit with trembling fingers, and +went to mount the cliff. + +After waiting a few minutes Winthrope walked hurriedly through the cleft, +and climbed the tree-ladder with an agility that would have amazed his +companions. But he did not draw himself up on the cliff. Having satisfied +himself that Miss Leslie was well out toward the signal, he returned to +the baobab, and proceeded to examine Blake's door with minute scrutiny. + +That evening, shortly before dark, Blake came in almost exhausted by his +journey. Few men could have covered the same ground in twice the time. It +had been one continuous round of grass jungle, thorn scrub, rocks, and +swamp. And for all his pains, he brought back with him nothing more +than the discouraging information that the back-country was worse +than the shore. Yet he betrayed no trace of depression over the bad +news, and for all his fatigue, maintained a tone of hearty cheerfulness +until, having eaten his fill, he suddenly observed Miss Leslie's +frigid politeness. + +"What's up now?" he demanded. "You're not mad 'cause I hiked off +this morning without notice?" + +"No, of course not, Mr. Blake. Nothing of the kind. But I--" + +"Well,-what?" he broke in, as she hesitated. "I can't, for the world, +think of anything else I've done--" + +"You've done! Perhaps I might suggest that it is a question of what +you haven't done." The girl was trembling on the verge of hysterics. +"Yes, what you've not done! All these weeks, and not a single attempt +to get us away from here, except that miserable signal; and I as good as +put that up! You call yourself a man! But I--I--" She stopped short, +white with a sudden overpowering fear. + +Winthrope looked from her to Blake with a sidelong glance, his lips drawn +up in an odd twist. + +There followed several moments of tense silence; then Blake mumbled +apologetically: "Well, I suppose I might have done more. I was so dead +anxious to make sure of food and shelter. But this trip to-day--" + +"Mr.--Mr. Blake, pray do not get excited--I--I mean, please excuse me. +I'm--" + +"You're coming down sick!" he said. + +"No, no! I have no fever." + +"Then it's the sun. Yet you ought to keep up there where the air is +freshest. I'll make you a shade." + +She protested, and withdrew, somewhat hurriedly, to her tree. + +In the morning Blake was gone again; but instead of a note, beside +the fire stood the smaller antelope skin, converted into a great +bamboo-ribbed sunshade. + +She spent the day as usual on the headland. There was no wind, and the +sun was scorching hot. But with her big sunshade to protect her from the +direct rays, the heat was at least endurable. She even found energy to +work at a basket which she was attempting to weave out of long, coarse +grass; yet there were frequent intervals when her hands sank idle in +her lap, and she gazed away over the shimmering glassy expanse of the +ocean. + +In the afternoon the heat became oppressively sultry, and a long slow +swell began to roll shoreward from beyond the distant horizon, showing +no trace of white along its oily crests until they broke over the coral +reefs. There was not a breath of air stirring, and for a time the reefs +so checked the rollers that they lacked force to drive on in and break +upon the beach. + +Steadily, however, the swell grew heavier, though not so much as a +cat's-paw ruffled the dead surfaces of the watery hillocks. By sunset +they were rolling high over both lines of reefs and racing shoreward to +break upon the beach and the cliff foot in furious surf. The still air +reverberated with the booming of the breakers. Yet the girl, inland bred +and unversed in weather lore, sat heedless and indifferent, her eyes +fixed upon the horizon in a vacant stare. + +Her reverie was at last disturbed by the peculiar behavior of the +seafowl. Those in the air circled around in a manner strange to her, +while their mates on the ledges waddled restlessly about over and between +their nests. There was a shriller note than usual in their discordant +clamor. + +Yet even when she gave heed to the birds, the girl failed to realize +their alarm or to sense the impending danger. It was only that a feeling +of disquiet had broken the spell of her reverie; it did not obtrude +upon the field of her conscious thought. She sighed, and rose to return +to the cleft, idly wondering that the air should seem more sultry than at +mid-day. The peculiar appearance of the sun and the western sky meant +nothing more to her than an odd effect of color and light. She smilingly +compared it with an attempt at a sunset painted by an artist friend of +the impressionist school. + +Neither Winthrope nor Blake was in sight when she reached the baobab, +and neither appeared, though she delayed supper until dark. It was quite +possible that they had eaten before her return and had gone off again, +the Englishman to doze, and Blake on an evening hunt. + +At last, tired of waiting, she covered the fire, and retired into her +tree-cave. The air in the cleft was still more stifling than on the +headland. She paused, with her hand upraised to close the swinging +door. She had propped it open when she came out in the morning. After a +moment's hesitation, she went on across the hollow, leaving the door +wide open. + +"I will rest a little, and close it later," she sighed. She was feeling +weary and depressed. + +An hour passed. An ominous stillness lay upon the cleft. Even the +cicadas had hushed their shrill note. The only sound was a muffled +reverberating echo of the surf roaring upon the seashore. Beneath the +giant spread of the baobab all was blackness. + +Something moved in a bush a little way down the cleft. A crouching figure +appeared, dimly outlined in the starlight. The figure crept stealthily +across into the denser night of the baobab. The darkness closed about +it like a shroud. + +A blinding flash of light pierced the blackness. The figure halted +and crouched lower, though the flash had gone again in a fraction of +a second. A dull rumbling mingled with the ceaseless boom of the surf. + +A second flash lighted the cleft with its dazzling coruscation. This time +the creeping figure did not halt. + +Again and again the forked lightning streaked across the sky, every +stroke more vivid than the one before. The rumble of the distant thunder +deepened to a heavy rolling which dominated the dull roar of the +breakers. The storm was coming with the on-rush of a tornado. Yet +the leaves hung motionless in the still air, and there was no sound +other than the thunder and the booming of the surf. + +The lightning flared, one stroke upon the other, with a brilliancy that +lit up the cave's interior brighter than at mid-day. + +In the white glare the girl saw Winthrope, crouched beneath her upswung +door; and his face was as the face of a beast. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE HURRICANE BLAST + + +For a moment that seemed a moment of eternity, she lay on her bed, +staring into the blank darkness. The storm burst with a crashing uproar +that brought her to her feet, with a shriek. Her giant tree creaked +and strained under the impact of the terrific hurricane blasts that +came howling through the cleft like a rout of shrieking fiends. The +peals of thunder merged into one continuous roar, beneath which the +solid ledges of rock jarred and quivered. The sky was a pall of black +clouds, meshed with a dazzling network of forked lightning. + +The girl stood motionless, stunned by the uproar, appalled by the +blinding glare of the thunder-bolts; yet even more fearful of the +figure which every flash showed her still lurking beneath the door. +A gust-borne bough struck with numbing force against her upraised arm. +But she took no heed. She was unaware of the swirl of rain and sticks +and leaves that was driving in through the open entrance. + +On a sudden the door shook free from its props and whirled violently +around on its balance-bar. There was a shriek that pierced above the +shrilling of the cyclone,--a single human shriek. + +The girl sprang across the cave. The heavy door swished up before her +and down again, its lower edge all but grazing her face. For a moment +it stopped in a vertical position, and hung quivering, like a beast about +to leap upon its prey. Too excited to comprehend the danger of the act, +the girl sprang forward and shot one of the thick bars into its socket. + +A fierce gust leaped against the outer face of the door and thrust in +upon it, striving to burst it bodily from its bearings. The top and the +free side of the bottom bowed in. But the branches were still green +and tough, the bamboo like whalebone, and the shrunken creepers held +the frame together as though the joints were lashed with wire rope. +Failing to smash in the elastic structure, or to snap the crossbar, it +were as if the blast flung itself alternately against the top and bottom +in a fierce attempt to again whirl the frame about. The white glare +streaming in through the interstices showed the girl her opportunity. +She grasped another bar and shot it into its socket as the lower part of +the door gave back with the shifting of the pressure to the top. It was +then a simple matter to slide the remaining bars into the deep-sunk +holes. Within half a minute she had made the door fast, from the first +bar to the sixth. + +A heavy spray was beating in upon her through the chinks of the +framework. She drew back and sought shelter in a niche at the side. +Narrow as was the slit above the top of the door, it let in a torrent of +water, which spouted clear across and against the far wall of the cave. +It gushed down upon her bed and was already flooding the cave floor. + +She piled higher the cocoanuts stored in her niche, and perched herself +upon the heap to keep above the water. But even in her sheltered corner +the eddying wind showered her with spray. She waded across for her +skin-covered sunshade, and returned to huddle beneath it, in the still +misery and terror of a hunted animal that has crept wounded into a hole. + +During the first hurricane there had been companions to whom she could +look for help and comfort, and she had been to a degree unaware of the +greatness of the danger. But in the few short weeks since, she had caught +more than one glimpse of Primeval Nature,--she of the bloody fang, blind, +remorseless, insensate, destroying, ever destroying. + +True, this was on solid land, while before there had been the peril +of the sea. But now the girl was alone. Outside the straining walls of +her refuge, the hurricane yelled and shrieked and roared,--a headless, +formless monster, furious to burst in upon her, to overthrow her stanch +old tree giant, that in his fall his shattered trunk might crush and +mangle her. Or at any instant a thunder-bolt might rend open the great +tower of living wood, and hurl her blackened body into the pool on the +cave floor. + +Once she fancied that she heard Blake shouting outside the door; but +when she screamed a shrill response, the blast mocked her with echoing +shrieks, and she dared not venture to free the door. If it were Blake, he +did not shout again. After a time she began to think that the sound +had been no more than a freak of the shifting wind. Yet the thought of +him out in the full fury of the cyclone served to turn her thoughts from +her own danger. She prayed aloud for his safety, beseeching her God +that he be spared. She sought to pray even for Winthrope. But the vision +of that beastly face rose up before her, and she could not--then. + +Presently she became aware of a change in the storm. The terrific +gusts blew with yet greater violence, the thunder crashed heavier, +the lightning filled the air with a flame of dazzling white light. But +the rain no longer gushed across on the spot where her bed had been. +It was entering at a different angle, and its force was broken by the +bend in the thick wall of the entrance. After a time the deluge dashed +aslant the entrance, gushing down the door in a cataract of foam. + +Another interval, and the driving downpour no longer struck even the +edge of the opening. The wind was veering rapidly as the cyclone centre +moved past on one side. The area of the hurricane was little more than +thrice that of a tornado, and it was advancing along its course at +great speed. An hour more, and the outermost rim of the huge whirl +was passing over the cleft. + +Quickly the hurricane gusts fell away to a gale; the gale became a +breeze; the breeze lulled and died away, stifled by the torrential rain. + +Within the baobab all was again dark and silent. Utterly exhausted, the +girl had sunk back against the friendly wall of the tree, and fallen +asleep. + +She was wakened by a hoarse call: "Miss Jenny! Miss Jenny, answer me! +Are you all right?" + +She started up, barely saving herself from a fall as the big unhusked +nuts rolled beneath her feet. The morning sunlight was streaming in over +her door. She sprang down ankle-deep into the mire of the cave floor, +and ran to loosen the bars. As the door swung up, she darted out, with a +cry of delight: "You are safe--safe! Oh, I was so afraid for you! But +you're drenched! You must build a fire--dry yourself--at once!" + +"Wait," said Blake. "I've got to tell you something." + +He caught her outstretched hands, and pushed them down with gentle force. +His face was grave, almost solemn. + +"Think you can stand bad news--a shock?" + +"I-- What is it? You look so strange!" + +"It's about Winthrope,--something very bad--" + +She turned, with a gasp, and hid her face in her hands, shuddering with +horror and loathing. + +"Oh! oh!" she cried, "I know already--I know all!" + +"All?" demanded Blake, staring blankly. + +"Yes; all! And--and he made me think it was you!" She gasped, and fell +silent. + +Blake's face went white. He spoke in a clear, vibrant voice, tense as an +overstrained violin string: "I am speaking about Winthrope--understand +me?--Winthrope. He has been badly hurt." + +"The door swung down and struck him, when he was creeping in." + +"God!" roared Blake. "I picked him up like a sick baby--the +beast!--'stead of grinding my heel in his face! God! I'll--" + +"Tom! don't--don't even speak it! Tom!" + +"God! When a helpless girl--when a --!" He choked, beside himself with +rage. + +She sprang to him, and caught his sleeve in a convulsive grasp. "Hush, +for mercy's sake! Tom Blake, remember--you're a man!" + +He calmed like a ferocious dog at the voice of its master; but it was +several minutes before he could bring himself to obey her insistent +urging that he should return to the injured man. + +"I'll go," he at last growled. "Wouldn't do it even for you, but +he's good as dead--lucky for him!" + +"Dead!" + +"Dying. . . . . You stay away." + +He went around the baobab and a few paces along the cleft to the place +where a limp form lay huddled on the ledges, out of the mud. Slowly, as +though drawn by the fascination of horror, the girl crept after him. +When she saw the broken, storm-beaten thing that had been Winthrope, +she stopped, and would have turned back. After all, as Blake had said, +he was dying-- + +When she stood at the feet of the writhing figure, and looked down into +the battered face, it required all her will-power to keep from fainting. +Blake frowned up at her for an instant, but said nothing. + +Winthrope was speaking, feebly and brokenly, yet distinctly: "Really, I +did not mean any harm--at first--you know. But a man does not always have +control--" + +"Not a beast like you!" growled Blake. + +"Ow! Don't 'it me! I say now, I'm done for! My legs are cold +already--" + +"Oh, quick, Mr. Blake! build a fire! It may be, some hot broth--" + +"Too late," muttered Blake. "See here, Winthrope, there's no use +lying about it. You're going out mighty soon. See if you can't die +like a man." + +"Die! . . . Gawd, but I can't die--I can't die--Ow! it burns!" + +He flung up a hand, and sought to tear at his wounds. + +"Hold hard!" cried Blake, catching the hand in an iron grip. + +Something in his touch, or the tone of command, seemed to cower the +wretched man into a state of abject submission. + +"S'elp me, I'll confess!--I'll confess all!" he babbled. "The +stones are sewed in the stomach pad; I 'ad to take 'em hout of their +settings, and melt up the gold." He paused, and a cunning smile stole +over his distorted features. "Ho, wot a bloomin' lark! Valet plays the +gent, an' they never 'as a hinkling! Mr. Cecil Winthrope, hif you +please, an' a 'int of a title--wot a lark! 'Awkings, me lad, you're +a gay 'oaxer! Wot a lark! wot a lark!" + +Again there was a pause. The breath of the wounded man came in labored +gasps. There was an ominous rattling in his throat. Yet once again he +rallied, and this time his eyes turned to Miss Leslie, bright with an +agonized consciousness of her presence and of all his guilt and shame. + +His voice shrilled out in quavering appeal: "Don't--don't look at me, +miss! I tried to make myself a gentleman; God knows I tried! I fought +my way up out of the East End--out of that hell--and none ever lifted +finger to help me. I educated myself like a scholar--then the stock +sharks cheated me of my savings--out of the last penny; and I had to +take service. My God! a valet--his Grace's valet, and I a scholar! Do +you wonder the devil got into me? Do you--" + +Blake's deep voice, firm but strangely husky, broke in upon and silenced +the cry of agony: "There, I guess you've said enough." + +"Enough!--and last night--My God! to be such a beast! The devil tempted +me--aye, and he's paid me out in my own coin! I'm done for! God ha' +mercy on me!--God ha' mercy--" + +Again came the gasping rattle; this time there was no rally. + +Blake thrust himself between Miss Leslie and the crumpled figure. + +"Get back around the tree," he said harshly. + +"What are you going to do?" + +"That's my business," he replied. He thrust his burning-glass into +her hand. "Here; go and build a fire, if you can find any dry stuff." + +"You're not going to-- You'll bury him!" + +"Yes. Whatever he may have been, he's dead now, poor devil!" + +"I can't go," she half whispered, "not until--until I've learned-- +Do you--can you tell me just what is paranoia?" + +Blake studied a little, and tapped the top of his head. + +"Near as I can say, it's softening of the brain.--up there." + +"Do you think that--" she hesitated--"that he had it?" + +Again Blake paused to consider. + +"Well, I'm no alienist. I thought him a softy from the first. But +that was all in line with what he was playing on us--British dude. +Fooled me, and I'd been chumming with Jimmy Scarbridge,--and Jimmy +was the straight goods, fresh imported--monocle even--when I first ran up +against him. No; this--this Hawkins, if that's his name, had brains +all right. Still, he may have been cracked. When folks go dotty, they +sometimes get extra 'cute. The best I can think of him is that losing +his savings may have made him slip a cog, and then the scare over the +way we landed here and his spells of fever probably hurried up the +softening." + +"Then you believe his story?" + +"Yes, I do. But if you'll go, please." + +"One thing more--I must know now! Do you remember the day when you set +up the signal, and you--you quarrelled with him?" + +Blake reddened, and dropped his gaze. "Did he go and tell you that? The +sneak!" + +"If you please, let us say nothing more about him. But would you care +to tell me what you meant--what you said then?" + +Blake's flush deepened; but he raised his head, and faced her squarely +as he answered: "No; I'm not going to repeat any dead man's talk; and +as for what I said, this isn't the time or place to say anything in +that line--now that we're alone. Understand?" + +"I'm afraid I do not, Mr. Blake. Please explain." + +"Don't ask me, Miss Jenny. I can't tell you now. You'll have to wait +till we get aboard ship. We'll catch a steamer before long. 'T isn't +every one of them that goes ashore in these blows." + +"Why did you build that door? Did you suspect--" She glanced down at +the huddled figure between them. + +Blake frowned and hesitated; then burst out almost angrily: "Well, you +know now he was a sneak; so it's not blabbing to tell that much--I knew +he was before; and it's never safe to trust a sneak." + +"Thank you!" she said, and she turned away quickly that she might not +again look at the prostrate figure. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +WRECKAGE AND SALVAGE + + +All the wood in the cleft was sodden from the fierce downpour that had +accompanied the cyclone; all the cleft bottom other than the bare ledges +was a bed of mud; everything without the tree-cave had been either blown +away or heaped with broken boughs and mud-spattered rubbish. But the girl +had far too much to think about to feel any concern over the mere damage +and destruction of things. It was rather a relief to find something that +called for work. + +Not being able to find dry fuel, she gathered a quantity of the least +sodden of the twigs and branches, and spread them out on a ledge in the +clear sunshine. While her firewood was drying, she scraped away the mud +and litter heaped upon her rude hearth. She then began a search for lost +articles. When she dug out the pottery ware, she found her favorite +stew-pot and one of the platters in fragments. The drying-frames for +the meat had been blown away, and so had the antelope and hyena skins. + +Catching sight of a bit of white down among the bamboos, she went to it, +and was not a little surprised to see the tattered remnant of her duck +skirt. It had evidently been torn from the signal staff by the first gust +of the cyclone, whirled down into the cleft by some flaw or eddy in the +wind, and wadded so tightly into the heart of the thick clump of stems +that all the fury of the storm had failed to dislodge it. Its recovery +seemed to the girl a special providence; for of course they must keep up +a signal on the cliff. + +Having started her fire and set on a stew, she hunted out her sewing +materials from their crevice in the cave, and began mending the slits +in the torn flag. While she worked she sat on a shaded ledge, her bare +feet toasting in the sun, and her soggy, mud-smeared moccasins drying +within reach. When Blake appeared, the moccasins were still where she had +first set them; but the little pink feet were safely tucked up beneath +the tattered flag. Fortunately, the sight of the white cloth prevented +Blake from noticing the moccasins. + +"Hello!" he exclaimed. "What's that?--the flag? Say, that's luck! +I'll break out a bamboo right off. Old staff's carried clean away." + +"Mr. Blake,--just a moment, please. What have you done with--with it?" + +Blake jerked his thumb upward. + +"You have carried him up on the cliff?" + +"Best place I could think of. No animals--and I piled stones over.... +But, I say, look here." + +He drew out a piece of wadded cloth, marked off into little squares by +crossing lines of stitches. One of the squares near the edge had been +ripped open. Blake thrust in his finger, and worked out an emerald the +size of a large pea. + +"O-h-h!" cried Miss Leslie, as he held the glittering gem out to her +in his rough palm. + +He drew it back, and carefully thrust it again into its pocket. + +"That's one," he said. "There's another in every square of this +innocent, harmless rag--dozens of them. He must have made a clean sweep +of the duke's--or, more like, the duchess's jewels. Now, if you please, +I want you to sew this up tight again, and--" + +"I cannot--I cannot touch it!" she cried. + +"Say, I didn't mean to-- It was confounded stupid of me," mumbled +Blake. "Won't you excuse me?" + +"Of course! It was only the--the thought that--" + +"No wonder. I always am a fool when it comes to ladies. I'll fix the +thing all right." + +Catching up the nearest small pot, he crammed the quilted cloth down +within it, and filled it to the brim with sticky mud. + +"There! Guess nobody's going to run off with a jug of mud--and it +won't hurt the stones till we get a chance to look up the owner. He +won't be hard to find--English duke minus a pint of first-class +sparklers! Will you mind its setting in the cave after things are fixed +up?" + +"No; not as it is." + +He nodded soberly. "All right, then. Now I'll go for the new +flag-staff. You might set out breakfast." + +She nodded in turn, and when he came back from the bamboos with the +largest of the great canes on his shoulder, his breakfast was waiting +for him. She set it before him, and turned to go again to her sewing. + +"Hold on," he said. "This won't do. You've got to eat your share." + +"I do not--I am not hungry." + +"That's no matter. Here!" + +He forced upon her a bowl of hot broth, and she drank it because she +could not resist his rough kindness. + +"Good! Now a piece of meat," he said. + +"Please, Mr. Blake!" she protested. + +"Yes, you must!" + +She took a bite, and sought to eat; but there was such a lump in her +throat that she could not swallow. The tears gushed into her eyes, and +she began to weep. + +Blake's close-set lips relaxed, and he nodded. + +"That's it; let it run out. You're overwrought. There's nothing like +a good cry to ease off a woman's nerves--and I guess ladies aren't +much different from women when it comes to such things." + +"But I--I want to get the flag mended!" she sobbed. + +"All right, all right; plenty of time!" he soothed. "I'm going to see +how things look down the cleft." + +He bolted the last of his meat, and at once left her alone to cry +herself back to calmness over the stitching of the signal. + +His first concern was for the barricade. As he had feared, he found that +it had been blown to pieces. The greater part of the thorn branches +which he had gathered with so much labor were scattered to the four +corners of the earth. He stood staring at the wreckage in glum silence; +but he did not swear, as he would have done the week before. Presently +his face cleared, and he began to whistle in a plaintive minor key. He +was thinking of how she had looked when she darted out of the tree at +his call--of her concern for him. When he was so angered at Winthrope, +she had called him Tom! + +After a time he started on, picking his way over the remnant of the +barricade, without a falter in his whistling. The deluge of rain had +poured down the cleft in a torrent, tearing away the root-matted soil +and laying bare the ledges in the channel of the spring rill. But aside +from an occasional boggy hole, the water had drained away. + +At the foot, about the swollen pool, was a wide stretch of rubbish and +mud. He worked his way around the edge, and came out on the plain, where +the sandy soil was all the firmer for its drenching. He swung away at a +lively clip. The air was fresh and pure after the storm, and a slight +breeze tempered the sun-rays. + +He kept on along the cliff until he turned the point. It was not +altogether advisable to bathe at this time of day; but he had been caught +out by the cyclone in a corner of the swamp, across the river, where the +soil was of clay. Only his anxiety for Miss Leslie had enabled him to +fight his way out of the all but impassable morass which the storm +deluge had made of the half-dry swamp. At dawn he had reached the +river, and swam across, reckless of the crocodiles. The turbid water of +the stream had rid him of only part of his accumulated slime and +ooze. So now he washed out his tattered garments as well as he could +without soap, and while they were drying on the sun-scorched rocks, +swam about in the clear, tonic sea-water, quite as reckless of the +sharks as he had been of the ugly crocodiles in the river. + +For all this, he was back at the baobab before Miss Leslie had stitched +up the last slit in the torn flag. + +She looked up at him, with a brave attempt at a smile. + +"I am afraid I'm not much of a needle-woman," she sighed. "Look at +those stitches!" + +"Don't fret. They'll hold all right, and that's what we want," he +reassured her. "Give it me, now. I've got to get it up, and hurry +back for a nap. No sleep last night--I was out beyond the river, in +the swamp--and to-night I'll have to go on watch. The barricade is +down." + +"Oh, that is too bad! Couldn't I take a turn on watch?" + +Blake shook his head. "No; I'll sleep to-day, and work rebuilding the +barricade to-night. Toward morning I might build up the fire, and take a +nap." + +He caught up the flag and its new staff, and swung away through the cleft. + +He returned much sooner than Miss Leslie expected, and at once began to +throw up a small lean-to of bamboos over a ledge at the cliff foot, +behind the baobab. The girl thought he was making himself a hut, in +place of the canopy under which he had slept before the storm, which, +like Winthrope's, had been carried away. But when he stopped work, he +laconically informed her that all she had to do to complete her new +house was to dry some leaves. + +"But I thought it was for yourself!" she protested. "I will sleep +inside the tree." + +"Doc Blake says no!" he rejoined--"not till it's dried out." + +She glanced at his face, and replied, without a moment's hesitancy: +"Very well. I will do what you think best." + +"That's good," he said, and went at once to lie down for his much +needed sleep. + +He awoke just soon enough before dark to see the results of her hard +day's labor. All the provisions stored in the tree had been brought +out to dry, and a great stack of fuel, ready for burning, was piled +up against the baobab; while all about the tree the rubbish had been +neatly gathered together in heaps. Blake looked his admiration for her +industry. But then his forehead wrinkled. + +"You oughtn't to've done so much," he admonished. + +"I'll show you I can tote fair!" she rejoined. During the afternoon +she had called to mind that odd expression of a Southern girl chum, and +had been waiting her opportunity to banter him with it. + +He stared at her open-eyed, and laughed. + +"Say, Miss Jenny, you'd better look out. You'll be speaking American, +first thing!" + +Thereupon, they fell to chattering like children out of school, each +happy to be able to forget for the moment that broken figure up on the +cliff top and the haunting fear of what another day might bring to them. + +When they had eaten their meal, both with keen appetites, Blake sprang +up, with a curt "Good-night!" and swung off down the cleft. The girl +looked after him, with a lingering smile. + +"I wish he hadn't rushed off so suddenly," she murmured. "I was just +going to thank him for--for everything!" + +The color swept over her face in a deep blush, and she darted around to +her tiny hut as though some one might have overheard her whisper. + +Yet, after all, she had said nothing; or, at least, she had merely said +"everything." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +UNDERSTANDING AND MISUNDERSTANDING + + +In the morning she found Blake scraping energetically at the inner +surfaces of a pair of raw hyena skins. + +"So you've killed more game!" she exclaimed. + +"Game? No; hyenas. I hated to waste good poison on the brutes; but +nothing else showed up, and I need a new pair of pa--er--trousers." + +"Was it not dangerous--great beasts like these!" + +"Not even enough to make it interesting. I'd have had some fun, though, +with that confounded lion when the moon came up, if he hadn't sneaked +off into the grass." + +"A lion?" + +"Yes. Didn't you hear him? The skulking brute prowled around for hours +before the moon rose, when it was pitch dark. It was mighty lonesome, +with him yowling down by the pool. Half a chance, and I'd given him +something to yowl about. But it wasn't any use firing off my arrows +in the dark, and, as I said, he sneaked off before--" + +"Tom--Mr. Blake!--you must not risk your life!" + +"Don't you worry about me. I've learned how to look out for Tom Blake. +And you can just bank on it I'm going to look out for Miss Jenny Leslie, +too! . . . . But say, after breakfast, suppose we take a run out on the +cliffs for eggs?" + +"I do not wish any to-day, thank you." + +He waited a little, studying her down-bent face. + +"Well," he muttered; "you don't have to come. I know I oughtn't to +take a moment's time. I did quite a bit last night; but if you think--" + +She glanced up, puzzled. His meaning flashed upon her, and she rose. + +"Oh, not that! I will come," she answered, and hastened to prepare the +morning meal. + +When they came to the tree-ladder, she found that the heap of stones +built up by Blake to facilitate the first part of the ascent was now +so high that she could climb into the branches without difficulty. She +surmised that Blake had found it necessary to build up the pile before he +could ascend with his burden. + +They were at the foot of the heap, when, with a sharp exclamation, Blake +sprang up into the branches, and scrambled to the top in hot haste. +Wondering what this might mean, Miss Leslie followed as fast as she +could. When she reached the top, she saw him running across towards an +out-jutting point on the north edge of the cliff. + +She had hurried after him for more than half the distance before she +perceived the vultures that were gathered in a solemn circle about a +long and narrow heap of stones, on a ledge, down on the sloping brink +of the cliff. While at the foot of the tree Blake had seen one of the +grewsome flock descending to join the others, and, fearful of what might +be happening, had rushed on ahead. + +At his approach, the croaking watchers hopped awkwardly from the +ledges, and soared away; only to wheel, and circle back overhead. Miss +Leslie shrank down, shuddering. Blake came back near her, and began to +gather up the pieces of loose rock which were strewn about beneath the +ledges on that part of the cliff. + +"I know I piled up enough," he explained, in response to her look. +"All the same, a few more will do no harm." + +"Then you are sure those awful birds have not--" + +"Yes; I'm sure." + +He carried an armful of rocks to lay on the mound. When he began to +gather more, she followed his example. They worked in silence, piling +the rough stones gently one upon another, until the cairn had grown +to twice its former size. The air on the open cliff top was fresher +than in the cleft, and Miss Leslie gave little heed to the absence of +shade. She would have worked on under the burning sun without thought +of consequences. But Blake knew the need of moderation. + +"There; that'll do," he said. "He may have been--all he was; but +we've no more than done our duty. Now, we'll stroll out on the point." + +"I should prefer to return." + +"No doubt. But it's time you learned how to go nesting. What if you +should be left alone here? Besides, it looks to me like the signal is +tearing loose." + +She accompanied him out along the cliff crest until they stood in the +midst of the bird colony, half deafened by their harsh clamor. She had +never ventured into their concourse when alone. Even now she cried +out, and would have retreated before the sharp bills and beating wings +had not Blake walked ahead and kicked the squawking birds out of the +path. Having made certain that the big white flag was still secure on +its staff, he led the way along the seaward brink of the cliff, pointing +out the different kinds of seafowl, and shouting information about +such of their habits and qualities as were of concern to hungry castaways. + +He concluded the lesson by descending a dizzy flight of ledges to rob the +nest of a frigate bird. It was a foolhardy feat at best, and doubly so +in view of the thousands of eggs lying all around in the hollows of the +cliff top. But from these Blake had recently culled out all the fresh +settings of the frigate birds, and none of the other eggs equalled them +in delicacy of flavor. + +"How's that?" he demanded, as he drew himself up over the edge of the +cliff, and handed the big chalky-white egg into her keeping. + +"I would rather go without than see you take such risks," she replied +coldly. + +"You would, eh!" he cried, quite misunderstanding her, and angered +by what seemed to him a gratuitous rebuff. "Well, I'd rather you'd say +nothing than speak in that tone. If you don't want the egg heave it +over." + +Unable to conceive any cause for his sudden anger, she was alarmed, and +drew back, watching him with sidelong glances. + +"What's the matter?" he demanded. "Think I'm going to bite you?" + +She shrank farther away, and did not answer. He stared at her, his eyes +hard and bright. Suddenly he burst into a harsh laugh, and strode away +towards the cliff, savagely kicking aside the birds that came in his path. + +When, an hour later, the girl crept back along the cleft to the baobab, +she saw him hard at work building a little hut, several yards down +towards the barricade. The moment she perceived what he was about her +bearing became less guarded, and she took up her own work with a spirit +and energy which she had not shown since the adventure with the puff +adder. + +At her call to the noon meal, Blake took his time to respond, and when he +at last came to join her, he was morose and taciturn. She met him with +a smile, and exerted all her womanly tact to conciliate him. + +"You must help me eat the egg," she said. "I've boiled it hard." + +"Rather eat beef," he mumbled. + +"But just to please me--when I've cooked it your way!" + +He uttered an inarticulate sound which she chose to interpret as assent. +The egg was already shelled. She cut it exactly in half, and served one +of the pieces to him with a bit of warm fat and a pinch of salt. As he +took the dish, he raised his sullen eyes to her face. She met his gaze +with a look of smiling insistence. + +"Come now," she said; "please don't refuse. I'm sorry I was so +rude." + +"Well, if you feel that way about it!--not that I care for fancy +dishes," he responded gruffly. + +"It would be missing half the enjoyment to eat such a delicacy without +some one to share it," she said. + +Blake looked away without answer. But she could see that his face was +beginning to clear. Greatly encouraged, she chatted away as though they +were seated at her father's dinner-table, and he was an elderly friend +from the business world whom it was her duty to entertain. + +For a while Blake betrayed little interest, confining himself to +monosyllables except when he commented on the care with which she had +cooked the various dishes. When she least expected, he looked up at +her, his lips parted in a broad smile. She stopped short, for she had +been describing her first social triumphs, and his untimely levity +embarrassed her. + +"Don't get mad, Miss Jenny," he said, his eyes twinkling. "You don't +know how funny it seems to sit here and listen to you talking about those +things. It's like serving up ice cream and onions in the same dish." + +"I'm sure, Mr. Blake--" + +"Beats a burlesque all hollow--Mrs. Sint-Regis-Waldoff's chop-sooey +tea and young Mrs. Vandam-Jones's auto-cotillon--with us sitting here +like troglodytes, chewing snake-poisoned antelope, and you in that Kundry +dress--" + +"Do you--I was not aware that you knew about music." + +"Don't know a note. But give me a chance to hear good music, and I'm +there, if I have to stand in the peanut gallery." + +"Oh, I'm so glad! I'm very, very fond of music! Have you been to +Bayreuth?" + +"Where's that?" + +"In Germany. It is where his operas are given as staged by Wagner +himself. It is indescribably grand and inspiring--above all, the +Parsifal!" + +"I'll most certainly take that in, even if I have to cut short my +engagement in this gee-lorious clime--not but what, when it comes to +leopard ladies--" He paused, and surveyed her with frank admiration. + +The blood leaped into her face. + +"Oh!" she gasped, "I never dreamed that even such a man as you would +compare me with--with a creature like that!" + +"Such a man as me!" repeated Blake, staring. "What do you mean? I +know I'm not much of a ladies' man; but to be yanked up like this when +a fellow is trying to pay a compliment--well, it's not just what you'd +call pleasant." + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Blake. I misunderstood. I--" + +"That's all right, Miss Jenny! I don't ask any lady to beg my pardon. +The only thing is I don't see why you should flare out at me that way." + +For a full minute she sat, with down-bent head, her face clouded with +doubt and indecision. At last she bravely raised her eyes to meet his. + +"Do you wonder that I am not quite myself?" she asked. "You should +remember that I have always had the utmost comforts of life, and have +been cared for-- Don't you see how terrible it is for me? And then the +death of--of--" + +"I can't be sorry for that!" + +"But even you felt how terrible it was . . . . and then--Oh, surely, +you must see how--how embarrassing--" + +It was Blake's turn to look down and hesitate. She studied his face, +her bosom heaving with quick-drawn breath; but she could make nothing +of his square jaw and firm-set lips. His eyes were concealed by the brim +of his leaf hat. When he spoke, seemingly it was to change the subject: +"Guess you saw me making my hut. I'm fixing it so it'll do me even +when it rains." + +Had he been the kind of man that she had been educated to consider as +alone entitled to the name of gentleman, she could have felt certain +that he had intended the remark for a delicately worded assurance. But +was Tom Blake, for all his blunt kindliness, capable of such tact? She +chose to consider that he was. + +"It's a cunning little bungalow. But will not the rain flood you out?" + +"It's going to have a raised floor. You're more like to have the rain +drive in on you again. I'll have to rig up a porch over your door. It +won't do to stuff up the hole. You've little enough air as it is. +But that can wait a while. There's other work more pressing. First, +there's the barricade. By the time that's done, those hyena skins +will be cured enough to use. I've got to have new trousers soon, and new +shoes, too." + +"I can do the sewing, if you will cut out the pattern." + +"No; I'll take a stagger at it myself first. I'd rather you'd go +egging. You need to run around more, to keep in trim." + +"I feel quite well now, and I am growing so strong! The only thing is +this constant heat." + +"We'll have to grin and bear it. After all, it's not so bad, if only +we can stave off the fever. Another reason I want you to go for eggs is +that you can take your time about it, and keep a look-out for steamers." + +"Then you think --?" + +"Don't screw up your hopes too high. We've little show of being picked +up by a chance boat on a coast with reefs like this. But I figure that if +I was in your daddy's shoes, it'd be high time for me to be cabling +a ship to run up from Natal, or down from Zanzibar, to look around for +jettison, et cetera." + +"I'm sure papa will offer a big reward." + +"Second the motion! I've a sort of idea I wouldn't mind coming in for +a reward myself." + +"You? Oh, yes; to be sure. Papa is generous, and he will be grateful +to any one who--" + +"You think I mean his dirty money!" broke in Blake, hotly. + +Her confusion told him that he had not been mistaken. His face, only a +moment since bright and pleasant, took on its sullenest frown. + +Miss Leslie rose hurriedly, and started along the cleft. + +"Hello!" he called. "Not going for eggs now, are you?" + +She did not reply. + +"Hang it all, Miss Jenny! Don't go off like that." + +"May I ask you to excuse me, Mr. Blake? Is that sufficient?" + +"Sufficient? It's enough to give a fellow a chill! Come now; don't go +off mad. You know I've a quick temper. Can't you make allowances?" + +"You've--you've no right to look so angry, even if I did misunderstand +you. You misunderstood me!" She caught herself up with a half sob. +His silence gave her time to recover her composure. She continued with +excessive politeness, "Need I repeat my request to be excused, Mr. +Blake?" + +"No; once is enough! But honest now, I didn't mean to be nasty." + +"Good-day, Mr. Blake." + +"Oh, da-darn it, good-day!" he groaned. + +When, a few minutes later, she returned, he was gone. He did not come +back until some time after dark, when she had withdrawn to her lean-to +for the night. His hands were bleeding from thorn scratches; but after +a hasty supper, he went back down the cleft to build up the new wall +of the barricade with the great stack of fresh thorn-brush that he had +gathered during the afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE END OF THE WORLD + + +In the morning he met Miss Leslie with a sullen bearing, which, however, +did not altogether conceal his desire to be on friendly terms. Having +regained her self-control, she responded to this with such tact that +by evening each felt more at ease in the new relationship, and Blake +had lost every trace of his moroseness. The fact that both were +passionately fond of music proved an immense help. It gave them an +impersonal source of mutual sympathy and understanding,--a common +meeting-ground in the world of art and culture, apart from and above +the plane of their material wants. + +Yet for all his enjoyment of the girl's wide knowledge of everything +relating to music, Blake took care that their talks and discussions did +not interfere with the activities of their primitive mode of life. As +soon as he had finished with the barricade, he devoted himself to his +tailoring and shoe-making; while Miss Leslie, between her cooking and +wood-gathering and daily visits to the cliff for eggs, had much to occupy +both her thoughts and her hands. + +At first every ascent of the cliff was embittered by a painful +consciousness of the cairn upon the north edge. Fortunately it was not +in sight from the direct path to the headland, and, as she refrained +from visiting it, the new happenings of her wild life soon thrust +Winthrope and his death out of the foreground of her thoughts. Each day +she had to nerve herself to meet the beaks and wings of the despoiled +nest-owners; each day she looked with greater hope for the expected +rescue ship, only to be increasingly disappointed. + +But the hours she spent on the cliff crest after gathering the day's +supply of eggs were not spent merely in watching and longing. The +inconvenience of carrying the eggs in a handkerchief or in one of the +heavy jars suggested a renewal of her attempt at basket-making. Memory, +perseverance, and a trace of inventiveness enabled her to produce a +small but serviceable hamper of split bamboo. + +Encouraged by this success she gathered a quantity of tough, wiry grass, +and wove a hat to take the place of the flimsy palm-leaf makeshift. +The result was by no means satisfactory with regard to style, its shape +being intermediate between a Mexican sombrero and a funnel; but aside +from its appearance, she could not have wished for a more comfortable +head-cover. Before showing it to Blake, she wove a second one for him, +so that they were able to cast aside the grotesque, palm-leaf affairs +at the same time. + +The following morning Blake appeared in an outfit to match her +leopard-skin dress. He had singed off the hair of the hide out of which +he had made his moccasins, and his hyena-skin trousers quite matched +the bristling stubble on his face. + +"Hey, Miss Jenny!" he hailed; "what d' you think of this for fancy +needlework?" + +"Splendid! You're the very picture of an Argentine vaquero." + +"Greaser?--ugh! Let me get back to the Weary Willy pants!" + +"I mean you are very picturesque." + +"That's it, is it? Glad I've got something to call your leopardine +gown that won't make you huffy." + +"We can at least call our costumes serviceable, and mine has proved much +cooler than I expected." + +"But our new hats beat all for that--regular sunshades. What do you +say?--there's a good breeze-- Let's take a hike." + +"Not to the river! The very thought of that dreadful snake--" + +"No; just the other way. I've been thinking for some time that we +ought to run down to that south headland, and take a squint at the coast +beyond. Ten to one, it's another stretch of swamps, but--" + +"You think there is a chance we may find a town?" + +"About one chance in a million, even for a native village. The slave +trade wiped the niggers off this coast, and I guess those that hit out +upcountry ran so hard they haven't been able to get back yet." + +"But it has been years since the slave trade was forbidden." + +"And they don't sell beer in Kansas--oh, no! I'll bet the dhows still +slip over from Madagascar when the moon is in the right quarter. At +any rate, niggers are mighty scarce or mighty shy around here. I've +kept a watch for smoke, and haven't seen a suspicion of it anywhere. +Maybe the swamps swing around inland and cut off this strip of coast. +It looked that way to me when I made that trip along the ridge. But +there's a chance it used to be inhabited, and we may run across an +abandoned village." + +"I do not see that the discovery would do us any good." + +"How about the chance of grain or bananas still growing? But that's +all a guess. We're going because we need a change." + +She nodded, and hastened to prepare breakfast, while he packed a skin +bag with food, and examined the slender tips of his arrows. As a matter +of precaution, he had been keeping them in the cigarette case, where +the points would be certain of a coat of the sticky poison and at the +same time guarded against inflicting a chance wound. But as he was now +about to set out on a journey, he fitted tips into the heads of his +two straightest shafts. + +The morning was still fresh when they closed the barricade behind them +and descended to the pool. There was no game in sight, but Blake had no +wish to hunt at the commencement of the trip. The steady southwest wind +had blown the sky clear of its malarial haze, and gave promise of a day +which should know nothing of sultry calm--a day on which game would be +hard to stalk, but one perfectly suited for a long tramp. + +Mindful of ticks, Blake headed obliquely across to the beach. Once on +the smooth, hard sand, they swung along at a brisk pace, light-hearted +and keen with the spirit of adventure. Never had they felt more +companionable. Miss Leslie laughed and chatted and sang snatches of +songs, while Blake beat time with his club, or sought to whistle grand +opera--he had healed his blistered lips some time before by liberal +applications of antelope tallow. + +Gulls and terns circled about them, or hovered over the water, ready to +swoop down upon their finny prey. Sandpipers ran along the beach within a +stone's throw, but the curlews showed their greater knowledge of mankind +by keeping beyond gunshot. + +Once a great flock of geese drove high overhead, their leader honking +the alarm as they swept above the suspicious figures on the beach. Like +the curlews, they had knowledge of mankind. But the flock of white +pelicans which came sailing along in stately leisure on their immense +wings floated past so low that Blake felt certain he could shoot one. +He raised his bow and took aim, but refrained from shooting, at the +thought that it might be a sheer waste of his precious poison. + +A little later a herd of large animals appeared on the border of the +grass jungle, but wheeled and dashed back into cover so quickly that +Blake barely had time to make out that they were buffaloes--the first +he had seen on this coast, but easily recognized by their resemblance +to the Cape variety. Their flight gave him small concern; for the time +being he was more interested in topography than game. + +The southern headland now lay close before them, its seaward face rearing +up sheer and lofty, but the approach behind running down in broken +terraces. Mid-morning found the explorers at the foot of the ridge. +Blake squinted up at the boulder-strewn slopes and the crannies of the +broken ledges. + +"Likely place for snakes, Miss Jenny," he remarked. "Guess I'd better +lead." + +Eager as she was to look over into the country beyond, the girl dropped +into second place, and made no complaint about the wary slowness of +her companion's advance. She found the most difficult parts of the +ascent quite easy after her training on the tree-ladder. Blake could +have taken ledges and all at a run, but as he mounted each terrace, he +halted to spy out the ground before him. Like Miss Leslie, he was looking +for snakes, though for an exactly opposite reason. He wished to add +to the contents of the cigarette case. + +Greatly to his disappointment and the girl's relief, neither snake nor +sign of snake was to be seen all the way up the ridge. As they neared +the crest Blake turned to offer her his hand up the last ledges, and in +the instant they gained the top. + +The wind, now freshening to a gale, struck the girl with such force that +she would have been blown back down the ledges had not Blake clutched +her wrist. Heedless alike of the painful grip which held her and of the +gusts which tore at her skirt, the girl stood gazing out across the +desolate swamps which stretched away to the southwest as far as the +eye could see. She did not speak until Blake led her down behind the +shelter of the crest ledges. + +"What's the matter?" he demanded. "Didn't I warn you?" + +She looked away to hide the tears which sprang into her eyes. + +"I can't explain--only, it makes me feel so--so lonely!" + +"Oh, come now, little woman; don't take on so!" he urged. "It might +be a lot worse, you know. We've gotten along pretty well, considering." + +"You have been very kind, Mr. Blake, and as you say, matters might have +been worse. I do not forget how far more terrible was our situation the +morning after the storm. Yet you must realize how disappointing it is to +lose even the slightest hope of escape." + +"Well, I don't know. If it wasn't for the fever that's bound to come +with the rains, I, for one, would just as leave stick to this camp right +along, providing the company don't change." + +She turned upon him with flashing eyes, all thought of caution lost in +her anger. "How dare you say such a thing? You are contemptible! I +despise you!" + +"My, Miss Jenny, but you are pretty when you get mad!" he exclaimed. + +The answer took her completely aback. He was neither angry nor laughing +at her, but met her defiant glance with candid, sober admiration. There +was something more than admiration in his glowing eyes; yet she could +not but see that her alarm had been baseless. His manner had never been +more respectful. Suddenly she found that she could no longer meet his +gaze. She looked away and stammered lamely, "You--you shouldn't say +such things, you know." + +"Why not? Hasn't everything been running smooth the last few days? +Haven't we been good chummy comrades? Of course you've got the worst of +the deal. I know I'm not much on fancy talk; but I like to hear it when +I've a chance. I've led a lonesome sort of life since they did for my +sisters-- No; I'm not going to rake that up again. I'm only trying +to give you an idea what it means to a fellow to be with a lady like +you. May be it isn't polite to tell you all this, but it's just what +I feel, and I never did amount to shucks as a liar." + +"I believe I understand you, Mr. Blake, and I really feel highly +complimented." + +"No, you don't, any such thing, Miss Jenny. Own up, now! If I met you +to-morrow on your papa's doorstep, you'd cut me cold." + +"I should if you continued to be so rude. Have you no regard for my +feelings? But here we are, talking nonsense, when we should be going--" + +"Is it nonsense?" he broke in. "What does life mean, anyway? Here we +can be true friends and comrades,--real, free living people. It can't +be that you want to go back to all those society shams, after you've +seen real life! As for me, what have I to gain by going back to the +everlasting grind? I don't mind work; but when a man has nothing ahead +to work for but a bank account, when it's grind, grind, grind till +your head goes stale and all the world looks black, then there's no +choice but throw up your job and go on a drunk, if you want to keep from +a gun accident. Maybe you don't understand it. But that's what I've +had to go through, time and again. Do you wonder I like to fancy an +everlasting picnic here, with a little partner who wouldn't let me +come within shouting distance of her in the land of lavender--trousers +and peek-a-boos?" + +"Mr. Blake, really you are most unjust! I could not be so--so +ungrateful, after all your kindness. I--we should certainly be glad to +number you among our friends." + +"Drink and all, eh?" + +"A man of your will-power has no need whatever to give way to such a +habit." + +"Course not, if he's got anything in sight worth while. Guess, though, +my folks must have been poor white trash. I never could go after money +just for the fun of the game. No family, no friends, no--what-you +-call-it?--culture-- What's the use? I have a fair head for figures; but +all the mathematics that I know I've had to catch hot off the bat. +It's true I grubbed my C. E. out of a correspondence school; but a +fellow has to have an all-round, crack-up education to put him where +it's worth while." + +"You still have time to work up. You are not much over thirty." + +"Twenty-seven." + +"Twenty-seven! I should have thought-- What a hard life you must have +had!" + +"Hard work? Well, I suppose Panama did do for me some. But it wasn't +so much that. Few fellows could hit up the pace I've set and come out +at all." + +"I do not understand." + +"Just what you might expect of a fellow in my fix--all kinds of gamble +and drink and--the rest of it." + +Miss Leslie looked away, visibly distressed. She had not been reared +after the French method. Young as she was, she had fluttered at will +about the borders of the garden of vice, knowing well that the gaudy +blossoms were lures to entice one into the pitfall. Yet never before +had she caught so clear a glimpse of the slimy depths. + +"That's it!" growled Blake. "Throw me down cold, just because I'm +square enough to tell you straight out. You make me tired! I'm not +one of the work-ox sort, that can chew the cud all the year round, and +cork the blood out of their brains. I've got to cut loose from the +infernal grind once in a while, and barring a chance now and then at +opera, there's never been anything but a spree--" + +"Oh, but that's so dreadfully shocking, Mr. Blake!" + +"And then like all the other little hypocrites, you'll go and marry +one of those swell dudes who's made that sort of thing his business, and +everybody knows it, but it's all politely understood to've been done +sub rosa, so it's all right, because he knows how to part his name in +the middle and--" + +"Please, please stop, Mr. Blake! You don't know how cruel you are!" + +"Cruel? Suppose I told you about the millionaire cur that-- Oh, now, +don't go and cry! Please don't cry, Miss Jenny! I wouldn't hurt your +feelings for the world! I didn't mean anything out of the way, really +I didn't! It's only that when I get to thinking of--of things, it sets +me half crazy. And now, can't you see how it's going to be ten times +worse for me after--with you so altogether beyond me--" He stopped +short, flushed, and stammered lamely, "I--I didn't mean to say that!" + +She looked down, no less embarrassed. + +"Please let us talk of something else," she murmured. "It has +been such a pleasant morning, until you--until we began this silly +discussion." + +"All right, all right! Only mop up the dewdrops, and we'll turn on +the sun machine. I really didn't mean to rip out that way at all. But, +you see, the thing's been rankling in me ever since we came aboard ship +at the Cape, and Winthrope and Lady Bayrose had my seat changed so I +couldn't see you-- Not that I hold anything against them now--" + +"Mr. Blake, I suppose you know that this African coast is particularly +dangerous for women. So far I have escaped the fever. But you yourself +said that the longer the attack is delayed, the worse it will be." + +Blake's face darkened, and he turned to stare inland along the ridge. +She had flicked him on the raw, and he thought that she had done so +intentionally. + +"You think I haven't tried--that I've been shamming!" he burst out +bitterly. "You're right. There's the one chance-- But I couldn't +leave you till the barricade was finished, and it's been only a few days +since-- All the same, I oughtn't to've waited a day. I'll start it +to-morrow." + +"What! Start what?" + +"A catamaran. I can rig one up, in short order, that, with a skin +sail and an outrigger, will do fairly well to coast along inside the +reefs--barring squalls. Worst thing is that it's all a guess whether +the nearest settlement is up the coast or down." + +"And you can think of going, and leaving me all alone here!" + +"That's better than letting you risk two-to-one chances on feeding the +sharks." + +"But you'd be risking it!" + +Blake uttered a short harsh laugh. + +"What's the difference?" He paused a moment; then added, with grim +humor, "Anyway, they'll have earned a meal by the time they get me +chewed up." + +"You sha'n't go!" + +"Oh, I don't know. We'll see about it to-morrow. There's a grove +of cocoanuts yonder. Come on, and I'll get some nuts. I can't see any +water around here, and it would be dry eating, with only the flask." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +A LION LEADS THEM + + +The palm grove stood under the lee of the ridge, on a stretch of bare +ground. Other than seaward, the open space was hemmed in by grass +jungle, interspersed with clumps of thorn-brush. On the north side a +jutting corner of the tall, yellow spear-grass curved out and around, +with the point of the hook some fifty yards from the palms. Elsewhere the +distance to the jungle was nearly twice as far. + +Blake dropped the bag and his weapons, flung down his hat, and started +up a palm shaft. The down-pointing bristles of his skin trousers aided +his grip. Though the lofty crown of the palm was swaying in the wind, he +reached the top and was down again before Miss Leslie had arranged the +contents of the lunch bag. + +"Guess you're not extra hungry," he remarked. + +She made no response. + +"Mad, eh? Well, toss me the little knife. Mine has got too good a +meat-edge to spoil on these husks." + +"It was very kind of you to climb for the nuts, and the wind blowing +so hard up there," she said, as she handed over the penknife. "I am +not angry. It is only that I feel tired and depressed. I hope I am not +going to be--" + +"No; you're not going to have the fever, or any such thing! You're +played out, that's all. I'm a fool for bringing you so far. You'll be +all right after you eat and rest. Here; drink this cocoa milk." + +She drained the nut, and upon his insistence, made a pretence at eating. +He was deceived until, with the satisfying of his first keen hunger, he +again became observant. + +"Say, that won't do!" he exclaimed. "Look at your bowl. You haven't +nibbled enough to keep a mouse alive." + +"Really, I am not hungry. But I am resting." + +"Try another nut. I'll have one ready in two shakes." + +He caught his hat, which was dragging past in a downward eddy of the +wind, and weighted it with a cocoanut. He wedged another nut between +his knees, and bent over it, tearing at the husk. It took him only a +few moments to strip the fibre from the end and gouge open the germ hole. +He held out the nut, and glanced up to meet her smile of acceptance. + +She was staring past him, her eyes wide with terror, and the color fast +receding from her face. + +"What in-- Another snake?" he demanded, twisting warily about to glare +at the ground behind him. + +"There--over in the grass!" she whispered, "It looked out at me with +terrible, savage eyes!" + +"Snake?--that far off?" + +"No, no!--a monster--a huge, fierce beast!" + +"Beast?" echoed Blake, grasping his bow and arrows. "Where is he? +Maybe only one of these African buffaloes. How'd he look?--horns?" + +"I--I didn't see any. It was all shaggy, and yellow like the grass, +and terrible eyes--_Oh!_" + +The girl's scream was met by a ferocious, snarling roar, so deep and +prolonged that the air quivered and the very ground seemed to shake. + +"God!--a lion!" cried Blake, the hair on his bare head bristling like +a startled animal's. + +He turned squarely about toward the ridge, his bow half drawn. Had the +lion shown himself then, Blake would have shot on the instant. As it +was, the beast remained behind the screening border of grass, where he +could watch his intended quarry without being seen in turn. The delay +gave Blake time for reflection. He spoke sharply, as it were biting off +his words: "Hit out. I'll stop the bluffer." + +"I can't. Oh, I'm afraid!" + +Again the hidden beast gave voice to his mighty rumbling challenge. Still +he did not appear, and Blake attempted a derisive jeer: "Hey, there, +louder! We've not run yet! It's all right, little woman. The skulking +sneak is trying to bluff us. 'Fraid to come out if we don't stampede. +He'll make off when he finds we don't scare. Lions never tackle men in +the daytime. Just keep cool a while. He'll--" + +"Look!--there to the right!--I saw him again! He's creeping around! +See the grass move!" + +"That's only the wind. It eddies down--God! he is stalking around. +Trying to take us from behind--curse him! He may get me, but I'll get +him too,--the dirty sneak!" + +The blood had flowed back into Blake's face, and showed on each cheek +in a little red patch. His broad chest rose and fell slowly to deep +respirations; his eyes glowed like balls of white-hot steel. He drew +his bow a little tauter, and wheeled slowly to keep the arrow pointed at +the slight wave in the grass which marked the stealthy movements of the +lion. Miss Leslie, more terrified with every added moment of suspense, +cringed around, that she might keep him between her and the hidden beast. + +Minute after minute dragged by. Only a man of Blake's obstinate, sullen +temperament could have withstood the strain and kept cool. Even he +found the impulse to leap up and run all but irresistible. Miss Leslie +crouched behind him, no more able to run than a mouse with which a cat +has been playing. + +Once they caught a glimpse of the sinuous, tawny form gliding among the +leafless stems of a thorn clump. Blake took quick aim; but the outlines +of the beast were indistinct and the range long. He hesitated, and the +opportunity was lost. + +Yard by yard they watched the slight swaying of the grass tops which +betrayed the cautious advance of the grim stalker. The beast did not +roar again. Having failed to flush his game, he was seeking to catch +them off their guard, or perhaps was warily taking stock of the strange +creatures, whose like he had never seen. + +Now and then there was a pause, and the grass tops swayed only to +the down-puffs of the heightening gale. At such moments the two grew +rigid, watching and waiting in breathless suspense. They could see, as +distinctly as though there had been no screening grass, the baleful +eyes of the huge cat and the shaggy forebody as the beast stood still +and glared out at them. + +Then the sinuous wave would start on again around the grass border, and +Blake would draw in a deep breath and mutter a word of encouragement to +the girl: "Look, now--the dirty sneak! Trying to give us the creeps, +is he? I'll creeps him! 'Fraid to show his pretty mug!" + +Not until the beast had circled half around the glade did his purpose +flash upon Blake. With the wariness of all savage hunters, the animal +had marked out the spur of jungle on the north side, where he could creep +closer to his quarry before leaping from cover. + +"The damned sneak!" growled Blake. "You there, Jenny?" + +She could not speak, but he heard her gasp. + +"Brace up, little woman! Where's your grit? You're out of this deal, +anyway. He'll choke to death swallowing me-- But say; couldn't you +manage to shin up a palm, twenty feet or so, and hang on for a couple +of minutes!" + +"I--can't move--I am--" + +"Make a try! It'll give me a run for my money. I'll take the next +elevator after you. That'll bring the bluffer out on the hot-foot. I +slip a surprise between his ribs, and we view the scenery while he's +passing in his checks. Come; make a spurt! He's around the turn, and +getting nearer every step." + +"I can't--Tom,--there is no need that both of us-- You climb up--" + +He turned about as the meaning of her whisper dawned upon him. Her eyes +were shining with the ecstasy of self-sacrifice. It was only the glance +of an instant; then he was again facing the jungle. + +"God! You think I'd do that!" + +She made no reply. There was a pause. Blake--crouched on one knee, tense +and alert--waited until the sinister wave was advancing into the point +of the incurved jungle. Then he spoke, in a low, even tone: "Feel if my +glass is there." + +Her hand reached around and pressed against the fob pocket which he had +sewn in the belt of his skin trousers. + +"Right. Now slip my club up under my elbow--big end. Lick on the +nose'll stop a dog or a bull. It's a chance." + +She thrust the club under his right elbow, and he gripped it against his +side. + +At that moment the lion bounded from cover, with a roar like a clap of +thunder. Blake sprang erect. The beast checked himself in the act of +leaping, and crouched with his great paws outstretched, every hooked +claw thrust out, ready to tear and mangle. In two or three bounds he +could have leaped upon Blake and crushed him with a single stroke of his +paw. As he rose to repeat his deafening roar, it seemed to Blake that he +stood higher than a horse--that his mouth gaped wide as the end of a +hogshead. And yet the beast stood hesitating, restrained by brute dread +of the unknown. Never before had any animal that he had hunted reared +up to meet his attack in this strange manner. + +"Lie flat!" commanded Blake; "lie flat, and don't move! I'm going +to call his bluff. Keep still till the poison gets in its work. I'll +keep him busy long as I can. When it's over, hit out for home along the +beach. Keep inside the barricade, and watch all you can from the cliffs. +Might light a fire up there nights. There's sure to be a steamer before +long--" + +"Tom!" she cried, struggling to her knees,--"Tom!" + +But he did not pause or look around. He was beginning to circle slowly +to the left across the open ground, in a spiral curve that would bring +him to the edge of the jungle within thirty yards of the lion. There +was red now showing in his eyes. His hair was bristling, no longer with +fear, but with sheer brute fury; his lips were drawn back from the +clenched teeth; his nostrils distended and quivering; his forehead +wrinkled like that of an angry mastiff. His look was more ferocious +than that of the snarling beast he faced. All the primeval in him was +roused. He was become a man of the Cave Age. He went to meet death, his +mind and body aflame with fierce lust to kill. + +The lion stilled his roars, and crouched as if to spring, snarling and +grinning with rage and uncertainty. His eyes, unaccustomed to the glare +of the mid-day sun, blinked incessantly, though he followed the man's +every movement, his snarls deepening into growls at the slightest change +of attitude. + +In his blind animal rage, Blake had forgotten that the purpose of his +lateral advance was to place as great a distance as possible between him +and the girl before the clash. Yet instinct kept him moving along his +spiral course, on the chance that he might catch his foe off his guard. + +Suddenly the lion half rose and stretched forward, sniffing. There was +an uneasy whining note in his growls. Blake let the club slip from +beneath his arm, and drew his bow until the arrow-head lay upon his +thumb. His outstretched arm was rigid as a bar of steel. So tense and +alert were all his nerves that he knew he could drive home both arrows, +and still have time to swing his club before the beast was upon him. + +A puff of wind struck against his back, and swept on to the nostrils of +the lion, laden with the odor of man. The beast uttered a short, startled +roar, and whirling about, leaped away into the jungle so quickly that +Blake's arrow flashed past a full yard behind. + +The second arrow was on the string before the first had struck the +ground. But the lion had vanished in the grass. With a yell, Blake +dashed on across to the nearest point of the jungle. As he ran, he +drew the burning-glass from his fob, and flipped it open, ready for use. +If the lion had turned behind the sheltering grass stems, he was too +cowardly to charge out again. Within a minute the jungle border was a +wall of roaring flame. + +The grass, long since dead, and bone-dry with the days of tropical +sunshine since the cyclone, flared up before the wind like gunpowder. +Even against the wind the fire ate its way along the ground with fearful +rapidity, trailing behind it an upwhirling vortex of smoke and flame. +No living creature could have burst through that belt of fire. + +A wave of fierce heat sent Blake staggering back, scorched and blistered. +There was no exultance in his bearing. For the moment all thought of +the lion was swallowed up in awe of his own work. He stared at the +hell of leaping, roaring flames from beneath his upraised arm. To +the north sparks and lighted wisps of grass driven by the gale had +already fired the jungle half way to the farther ridge. + +Step by step Blake drew back. His heel struck against something soft. +He looked down, and saw Miss Leslie lying on the sand, white and still. +She had fainted, overcome by fear or by the unendurable heat. The heat +must have stupefied him as well. He stared at her, dull-eyed, wondering +if she was dead. His brain cleared. He sprang over to where the flask +lay beside the remnants of the lunch. + +He was dashing the last drops of the tepid water in her face, when she +moaned, and her eyelids began to flutter. He flung down the flask, and +fell to chafing her wrist. + +"Tom!" she moaned. + +"Yes, Miss Jenny, I'm here. It's all right," he answered. + +"Have I had a sunstroke? Is that why it seems so-- I can hardly +breathe--" + +"It's all right, I tell you. Only a little bonfire I touched off. Guess +you must have fainted, but it's all right now." + +"It was silly of me to faint. But when I saw that dreadful thing +leap--" She faltered, and lay shuddering. Fearful that she was about to +swoon again, Blake slapped her hand between his palms with stinging force. + +"You're it!" he shouted. "The joke's on you! Kitty jumped just the +other way, and he won't come back in a hurry with that fire to head him +off. Jump up now, and we'll do a jig on the strength of it." + +She attempted a smile, and a trace of color showed in her cheeks. With an +idea that action would further her recovery, he drew her to a sitting +position, stepped quickly behind, and, with his hands beneath her elbows, +lifted her upright. But she was still too weak and giddy to stand alone. +As he released his grip, she swayed and would have fallen had he not +caught her arm. + +"Steady!" he admonished. "Brace up; you're all right." + +"I'm--I'm just a little dizzy," she murmured, clinging to his +shoulder. "It will pass in a minute. It's so silly, but I'm that +way--Tom, I--I think you are the bravest man--" + +"Yes, yes--but that's not the point. Leave go now, like a sensible +girl. It's about time to hit the trail." + +He drew himself free, and without a glance at her blushing face, began to +gather up their scattered outfit. His hat lay where he had weighted it +down with the cocoanut. He tossed the nut into the skin bag, and jammed +the hat on his head, pulling the brim far down over his eyes. When he +had fetched his club, he walked back past the girl, with his eyes averted. + +"Come on," he muttered. + +The scarlet in the girl's cheeks swept over her whole face in a burning +wave, which ebbed slowly and left her colorless. Blake had started off +without a backward glance. She gazed about with a bewildered look at the +palms and the barren ridge and the fiery tidal wave of flame. Her gaze +came back to Blake, and she followed him. + +Within a short distance she found herself out of the sheltering lee of +the ridge. The first wind gust almost overthrew her. She could never +have walked against such a gale; but with the wind at her back she was +buoyed up and borne along as though on wings. Her sole effort was to +keep her foothold. Had it been their morning trip, she could have cried +out with joy and skipped along before the gusts like a school-girl. Now +she walked as soberly as the wind would permit, and took care not to +lessen the distance between herself and Blake. + +Mile by mile they hastened back across the plain,--on their right the +blue sea of water, with its white-caps and spray; on their left the +yellow sea of fire, with its dun fog of smoke. + +Once only had Blake looked back to see if the girl was following. After +that he swung along, with down-bent head, his gaze upon the ground. +Even when he passed in under the grove and around the pool to the foot +of the cleft, he began the ascent without waiting to assist her up the +break in the path. The girl came after, her lips firm, her eyes bright +and expectant. She drew herself up the ledge as though she had been bred +to mountain climbing. + +Inside the barricade Blake was waiting to close the opening. She crept +through, and rose to catch him by the sleeve. + +"Tom, look at me," she said. "Once I was most unjust to you in my +thoughts. I wronged you. Now I must tell you that I think you are the +bravest--the noblest man--" + +"Get away!" he exclaimed, and he shook off her hand roughly. "Don't +be a fool! You don't know what you're talking about." + +"But I do, Tom. I believe that you are--" + +"I'm a blackguard--do you hear?" + +"No blackguard is brave. The way you faced that terrible beast--" + +"Yes, blackguard--to've gone and shown to you that I--to've let you +say a single word--Can't you see? Even if I'm not what you call a +gentleman, I thought I knew how any man ought to treat a woman--but to go +and let you know, before we'd got back among people!" + +"But--but, Tom, why not, if we--" + +"No!" he retorted harshly. "I'm going now to pile up wood on the +cliff for a beacon fire. In the morning I'll start making that +catamaran--" + +"No, you shall not-- You shall not go off, and leave me, and--and risk +your life! I can't bear to think of it! Stay with me, Tom--dear! Even +if a ship never came--" + +He turned resolutely, so as not to see her blushing face. + +"Come now, Miss Leslie," he said in a dry, even tone; "don't make +it so awfully hard. Let's be sensible, and shake hands on it, like two +real comrades--" + +She struck frantically at his outstretched hand. + +"Keep away--I hate you!" she cried. + +Before he could speak, she was running up the cleft. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +IN DOUBLE SALVATION + + +When, an hour or more after dawn the next morning, the girl slowly drew +open her door and came out of the cave, Blake was nowhere in sight. She +sighed, vastly relieved, and hastened across to bathe her flushed face +in the spring. Stopping every few moments to listen for his step down +the cleft, she gathered up a hamper of food and fled to the tree-ladder. + +As she drew herself up on the cliff, she noticed a thin column of smoke +rising from the last smouldering brands of a beacon fire that had been +built in the midst of the bird colony, on the extreme outer edge of the +headland. She did not, however, observe that, while the smoke column +streamed up from the fire directly skyward, beyond it there was a much +larger volume of smoke, which seemed to have eddied down the cliff face +and was now rolling up into view from out over the sea. She gave no heed +to this, for the sight of the beacon had instantly alarmed her with the +possibility that Blake was still on the headland, and would imagine that +she was seeking him. + +She paused, her cheeks aflame. But the only sign of Blake that she could +see was the fire itself. She reflected that he might very well have +left before dawn. As likely as not, he had descended at the north end +of the cleft, and had gone off to the river to start his catamaran. At +the thought all the color ebbed from her cheeks and left her white and +trembling. Again she stood hesitating. With a sigh she started on toward +the signal staff. + +She was close upon the border of the bird colony, when Blake sat up from +behind a ledge, and she found herself staring into his blinking eyes. + +"Hello!" he mumbled drowsily. He sprang up, wide awake, and flushing +with the guilty consciousness of what he had done. "Look at the sun--way +up! Didn't mean to oversleep, Miss Leslie. You see I was up pretty late, +tending the beacon. But of course that's no excuse--" + +"Don't!" she exclaimed. There were tears in her eyes; yet she smiled +as she spoke. "I know what you mean by 'pretty late.' You've been +up all night." + +"No, I haven't. Not all night--" + +"To be sure! I quite understand, Mr. Thomas Blake!... Now, sit down, +and eat this luncheon." + +"Can't. Haven't time. I've got to get to the river and set to work. +I'll get some jerked beef and eat it on the way. You see--" + +"Tom!" she protested. + +"It's for you," he rejoined, and his lips closed together resolutely. + +He was stepping past her, when over the seaward edge of the cliff there +came a sound like the yell of a raging sea-monster. + +"Siren!" shouted Blake, whirling about. + +The cloud of smoke beyond the cliff end was now rolling up more to the +left. He dashed away towards the north edge of the cliff as though he +intended to leap off into space. The girl ran after him as fast as she +could over the loose stones. Before she had covered half the distance +she saw him halt on the very brink of the cliff, and begin to wave and +shout like a madman. A few steps farther on she caught sight of the +steamer. It was lying close in, only a little way off the north point of +the headland. + +Even as she saw the vessel, its siren responded to Blake's wild gestures +with a series of joyous screams. There could be no mistake. He had been +seen. Already they were letting go anchor, and there was a little crowd +of men gathering about one of the boats. Blake turned and started on +a run for the cliff. But Miss Leslie darted before him, compelling him +to halt. + +"Wait!" she cried, her eyes sparkling with happy tears. "Tom, it's +come now. You needn't--" + +"Let me by! I'm going to meet them. I want to--" + +But she put her hands upon his shoulders. + +"Tom!" she whispered, "let it be now, before any one--anything can +possibly come between us! Let it be a part of our life here--here, where +I've learned how brave and true a real man can be!" + +"And then have him prove himself a sneak!" he cried. "No; I won't, +Jenny! I've got you to think of. Wait till I've seen your father. Ten +to one, he'll not hear of it--he'll cut you off without a cent. Not but +what I'd be glad myself; but you're used to luxuries, girlie, and I'm +a poor man. I can't give them to you--" + +She laid a hand on his mouth, and smiled up at him in tender mockery. + +"Come, now, Mr. Blake; you're not very complimentary. After surviving +my cooking all these weeks, don't you think I might do, at a pinch, for +a poor man's wife!" + +"No, Jenny!" he protested, trying to draw back. "You oughtn't to +decide now. When you get back among your friends, things may look +different. Think of your society friends! Wait till you see me with +other men--gentlemen! I'm just a rough, uncultured, ordinary--" + +"Hush!" she cried, and she again placed her hand on his mouth. "You +sha'n't say such cruel things about Tom--my Tom--the man I trust--that +I--" + +Her arms slipped about his neck, and her eyes shone up into his with +tender radiance. + +"Don't!" he begged hoarsely. "'T ain't fair! I--I can't stand it!" + +"The man I love!" she whispered. + +He crushed her to him in his great arms. + +"My little girl!--dear little girl!" he repeated, and he pressed his +lips to her hair. + +She snuggled her face closer against his shoulder, and replied in a +very small voice, "I--I suppose you know that ship captains can m-marry +people." + +"But I haven't even a job yet!" he exclaimed. "Suppose your father--" + +"Please listen!" she pleaded. There was a sound like suppressed sobbing. + +"What is it?" he ventured, and he listened, greatly perturbed. The +muffled voice sounded very meek and plaintive: "I'll try to do my +part, Mr. Blake,--really I will! I--I hope we can manage to struggle +along--somehow. You know, I have a little of my own. It's only +three--three million; but--" + +"What!" he demanded, and he held her out at arm's length, to stare at +her in frowning bewilderment. "If I'd known that, I'd--" + +"You'd never have given me a chance to--to propose to you, you dear +old silly!" she cried, her eyes dancing with tender mirth. "See here!" + +She turned from him, and back again, and held up a withered, crumpled +flower. He looked, and saw that it was the amaryllis blossom. + +"You--kept it!" + +"Because--because, even then, down in the bottom of my heart, I had +begun to realize--to know what you were like--and of course that meant-- +Tom, tell me! Do you think I'm utterly shameless? Do you blame me for +being the one to--to--" + +"Blame you!" he cried. He paused to put a finger under her chin and +raise her down-bent face. His eyes were very blue, but there was a +twinkle in their depths. "Oh, yes; it was dreadful, wasn't it? But +I guess I've no complaint to file just now." + +THE END + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + + Any of the following titles can be bought of + your bookseller at 50 cents per volume. + + The Shepherd of the Hills. By Harold Bell Wright. + Jane Cable. By George Barr McCutcheon. + Abner Daniel. By Will N. Harben. + The Far Horizon. By Lucas Malet. + The Halo. By Bettina von Hutten. + Jerry Junior. By Jean Webster. + The Powers and Maxine. By C. N. and A. M. Williamson. + The Balance of Power. By Arthur Goodrich. + Adventures of Captain Kettle. By Cutcliffe Hyne. + Adventures of Gerard. By A. Conan Doyle. + Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. By A. Conan Doyle. + Arms and the Woman. By Harold MacGrath. + Artemus Ward's Works (extra illustrated). + At the Mercy of Tiberius. By Augusta Evans Wilson. + Awakening of Helena Richie. By Margaret Deland. + Battle Ground, The. By Ellen Glasgow. + Belle of Bowling Green, The. By Amelia E. Barr + Ben Blair. By Will Lillibridge. + Best Man, The. By Harold MacGrath. + Beth Norvell. By Randall Parrish. + Bob Hampton of Placer. By Randall Parrish. + Bob, Son of Battle. By Alfred Ollivant. + Brass Bowl, The. By Louis Joseph Vance. + Brethren, The. By H. Rider Haggard. + Broken Lance, The. By Herbert Quick. + By Wit of Women. By Arthur W. Marchmont + Call of the Blood, The. By Robert Hitchens. + Cap'n Eri. By Joseph C. Lincoln. + Cardigan. By Robert W. Chambers. + Car of Destiny, The. By C. N. and A. N. Williamson. + Casting Away of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine. By Frank R. Stockton. + Cecilia's Lovers. By Amelia E. Barr. + + + + +Popular Copyright Books + +AT MODERATE PRICES + + Any of the following titles can be bought of your + bookseller at 50 cents per volume. + + Circle, The. By Katherine Cecil Thurston (author of + "The Masquerader," "The Gambler"). + Colonial Free Lance, A. By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + Conquest of Canaan, The. By Booth Tarkington. + Courier of Fortune, A. By Arthur W. Marchmont. + Darrow Enigma, The. By Melvin Severy. + Deliverance, The. By Ellen Glasgow. + Divine Fire, The. By May Sinclair. + Empire Builders. By Francis Lynde. + Exploits of Brigadier Gerard. By A. Conan Doyle. + Fighting Chance, The. By Robert W. Chambers. + For a Maiden Brave. By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + Fugitive Blacksmith, The. By Chas. D. Stewart + God's Good Man. By Marie Corelli. + Heart's Highway, The. By Mary E. Wilkins. + Holladay Case, The. By Burton Egbert Stevenson. + Hurricane Island. By H. B. Marriott Watson. + In Defiance of the King. By Chauncey C. Hotchkiss. + Indifference of Juliet, The. By Grace S. Richmond. + Infelice. By Augusta Evans Wilson. + Lady Betty Across the Water. By C N. and A. M. Williamson. + Lady of the Mount, The. By Frederic S. Isham. + Lane That Had No Turning, The. By Gilbert Parker. + Langford of the Three Bars. By Kate and Virgil D. Boyles. + Last Trail, The. By Zane Grey. + Leavenworth Case, The. By Anna Katharine Green. + Lilac Sunbonnet, The. By S. R. Crockett. + Lin McLean. By Owen Wister. + Long Night, The. By Stanley J. Weyman. + Maid at Arms, The. By Robert W. Chambers. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTO THE PRIMITIVE ***
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